#also can we talk about the fact that five out of seven start with the letter C lmao

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

TW: NSFW, bondage, uncomfy situations

The next time you see Dr. Julian, (which isn’t at the jail, because you fucking tried to go bail him out and they just looked at you like you were crazy when you kept insisting Dr. Julian Mercer had to be in there) he has a red mark around his neck, a black eye, and a bump on his temple that’s almost the size of a chicken egg. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you hiss, rushing over to him. He takes your elbow and ducks the two of you into a supply closet. You think he just wants to have a private conversation, until he backs you into the shelves with a tonsil-inspecting, toe-curling kiss, his big hands digging into your waist. You grab fistfuls of his lab coat, you are so surprised it doesn’t even occur to you to fight him. When he finally pulls back you are breathless—and in shock. 

He seems to find this adorable, reaching up to caress your face. “Now all that was worth it,” he says cheekily.

You blink up at him, stupid as a lamb. “Did he hurt you?” you demand, trying to inspect the mark around his neck. 

“We reached an understanding,” Julian assures you with a dark look, taking your hands in his own. 

“But—“

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. Really.” It comes out like an order, and you don’t really like it when he talks to you that way, but you guess you understand that he doesn’t want to talk about Ludlow anymore.

“Ok.”

You are so going to worry about it. You also know there’s no way in hell that he’s going to want to see you anymore.

He looks down at you with that soft expression that warms your insides. “When’s your next day off?” 

You blink again. “Friday?”

“Can I make you dinner?”

“You want…to cook for me?”

“At my place. Around seven. I’ll text you the address.”

You’re still not sure if that was a request or an order, but you’re so dumbfounded that it doesn’t even occur to you to offer an opinion.

“But what about…?”

“I’m not scared of him, y/n.” The marks on his face indicate that maybe he should be, but the set of this man’s jaw indicates that maybe Ludlow has met his match. 

“I’m really sorry. About all of this.”

“I already told you, it’s not your fault.” There’s a flinty note in his voice, and you can tell he just wants you to drop it. Inwardly you flinch a little, but you nod. 

***

You suppose because he’s banned from being treated by you at the hospital, pulling you over in the dead of night after your shift becomes his go-to game. Maybe you should have started taking a different route home, but the highway was the fastest (and usually safest) way to go, and the thought of changing your personal day-to-day just for this asshole makes you see red. You refuse, and so you keep getting pulled over, four more times for weaker and weaker excuses. Not signaling when changing lanes. Using your phone (you weren’t). An obstruction to vision hanging from your rearview. And the cherry on top—too dim fucking blinkers? 

He even has the gall to check up on you, going so far as to inspect your wrists one evening, and turning your head from side to side with an authoritative finger hooked under your chin. “What do you think you’re doing?” you demand. 

“Just making sure Dr. Bitch is behaving himself.”

“That is none of your business.” 

“If he hurts you I’ll make it my business.” He just says it so casually. Water is wet, the sun is hot, and Tom Ludlow will fuck up Dr. Mercer’s day if he hurts you, even with consensual rough play. No one has ever stuck their neck out for you like that, and it is not helpful, what this misplaced concern does to your insides. This guy is 300% Pure Asshole. You should not be warming to him. 

Truth be told, you are nervous about your date with Julian tomorrow night. Maybe he’s being sweet and cooking for you—but it will also be on his home turf, like meeting a wolf in his den. You don’t really think Julian would hurt you. In fact, the thought seems absurd. But then again…people never cease to surprise you. You see the result of mankind’s insatiable bloodthirst every day at work. 

Despite your completely misplaced feelings for Officer Tom Ludlow, the fact stands that he is absolutely harassing you, and what he did to Julian outside the coffee shop was totally unacceptable. Maybe you don’t have any money to sue the LAPD like Julian does, but you’re not totally without a voice. The next morning you find yourself going downtown to the Police Headquarters to file a complaint. 

The place is bustling, filled with uniforms and plainclothes and people from every walk of life. It reminds you of the hospital in a way, and a wisp of a thought occurs to you that it’s interesting that you and Officer Ludlow engage in the two professions that truly hold together the fabric of society. Politicians like to think what they do is important, but the two of you do the real dirty work to help people survive through their day to day. There could have been something to that between you—if he wasn’t such a fucking creeper in his off hours. 

You follow the signs and the directions from various people behind desks to the Complaints Department. It’s a cordoned off area enclosed by glass. With your hand on the door handle you see who is sitting there behind a cheap mdf wood desk, looking unfairly handsome in his black beat uniform.

You freeze. 

How the fuck is he everywhere at once? It dawns on you that if he’s working his shift here during the day—he’s fucking with you on his own time at night. It simultaneously creeps you out and thrills you to your toes, and you know you are one sick puppy. 

You know you don’t have the guts to march in there and face him, so you decide to bounce. Of course, not before he turns his head at just the right moment. It’s like this man has a radar for your very presence, and your eyes meet through the glass. 

He knows exactly why you’re here, of course, and he smirks at you as though to say, ‘Tell me all about it.’ 

Bastard. 

You turn on your heel, and pray he doesn’t follow you. 

***

Later that night, you find yourself seated at the island with a glass of white wine in Dr. Mercer’s Spanish Revival style home in Santa Monica, watching him cook for you. He’s utterly edible, in a pressed light blue button down and khakis that should look dorky but somehow he just makes them look GQ worthy. He’s even worn a tie for you. He’s also wearing an apron, and it’s not so corny as to say Kiss The Cook but you did anyway first thing upon walking through the door. You’d asked if you could help with the meal, and he’d declined with a gracious smile. 

Now, you’re pretty sure he parked you here so you could get a view of his tight little rear end as he works at the stove. 

You take another big sip of wine. It’s really not fair in the least. 

He serves up chicken piccata with fresh vegetables out on the patio, complete with candlelight. The warm night breeze is like the breath of angels, and it’s possibly the most romantic dinner anyone has ever treated you to, and it makes you almost uncomfortable inside, how nice all this is. You know he’d said that he liked you, and he didn’t want a perfect girlfriend…but you can’t help but feel like an imposter here. 

There were no candlelit dinners with homemade Italian food and fine wine back in Kansas. There were bonfires in someone’s daddy’s back farm field, copious amounts of beer, and you were lucky if you didn’t get knocked up on the bench seat of someone’s rusty old pickup truck before the night was out. Yee fuckin’ haw.

“You alright?” he asks, reaching across the table to touch your hand. 

You realize that you have zoned out, while he was talking, again. 

“Fine,” you answer quickly, bolstering yourself with another sip of wine. You’re on your second glass now—you should probably slow down, but it’s so good. “I was just thinking…about how nice, all this is. Thank you, Julian. You’re so sweet.” 

He smiles at you from across the table, a winsome and heart-squeezing curl of lips, and he’s so handsome even with the now healing black eye. 

“I’m maybe sensing some anxiety stemming from Imposter Syndrome,” he says gently. 

“Is that your official diagnosis, Doctor?”

You can tell he likes it when you talk this way to him, even outside of the hospital. You can see it in the sparkle of his lovely mocha-brown eyes.  “Something like that.” He leans in towards you, his elbows on the little bistro-style table, pinning you with that acute stare. “I don’t know what happened to you, where you came from, y/n. Maybe you’ll trust me enough to tell me later. But I do know that it’s in the past, and it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something nice for yourself now. Does that make sense?”

It hits way too close to home, and with a sigh you lean back in your chair, unable to meet his eyes again. 

“It sounds so easy, when you put it that way.”

He tilts his head as he examines you, and you’re afraid that attentive stare misses nothing. “I could make it easy, for you,” he offers quietly. Something about that soft but oh-so-sure tone lifts every little fine hair on your body, a wave of gooseflesh erupting across your skin. You feel like a rabbit flicking its ears at the sound of danger, not quite sure which direction it’s coming from. 

“What do you mean?” you dare ask. 

“It’s part of the appeal of submission for some people, to hand over complete control to someone you trust, to let them make you feel good. It can be an almost…therapeutic release. I think I could do that for you.” 

Your heart chooses that moment to lodge itself in your throat, and it takes an embarrassingly long few seconds for you to find your voice again. As usual when you feel wildly uncomfortable, you opt for humor.  “Wow, do you subscribe this to your patients often?”

He chuckles, and it is dark and rich as bitter chocolate. “No, though maybe I should.”

You can’t help but notice you haven’t even made it through the main course, before he is bringing this up again. It must be something he really wants from you—and a part of you still finds that so hard to believe. He’d said your defiance on that patient’s discharge triggered this need in him. You wonder if there are other things about you, that has made him zero you out. It’s happened to you before. Narcissists just seem to sniff you out like they’re fucking bloodhounds. 

Is Julian like that, underneath all the good looks, the pleasantness, the charm?

Does he think you’d be easy to control? Or does he want a challenge because your dumb ass is stubborn as a mule? 

Does he know that if things go badly, you have no one here to offer recourse?

Unless, of course, you count Officer Tom Ludlow, but dear lord that is not the backup plan you want to rely on. 

“Well…I’m still thinking about all that,” you deflect, throwing your attention into coiling pasta around your fork, trying not to appear like a complete philistine.   

He has the grace not to appear disappointed, though there is a certain sharpness in his look now, and you have a feeling Dr. Mercer is not used to not getting his way, eventually. 

***

Julian does let you help with the dishes, and pours you yet another glass of wine. “Digestivo,” he says with a perfect accent and a little smile to himself. He explains it’s the word for the “after dinner drink” in Italy. Apparently it’s usually a liquor, but it seems he doesn’t want you that drunk. 

At least, not yet.

He asks if you want to watch a movie or listen to some music? You agree, ask him to pick something out, and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. When you return he is stretched out on the couch, looking utterly handsome, and you find yourself just staring while his head is turned towards the massive TV.

“I know you’re there,” he finally says with a little smile, turning to look at you knowingly. Cautiously you approach, glad for some reason that the tall back of the leather couch is between you. Perhaps the soft little woodland creature that will forever live inside you senses the wolf nearby, even if it’s wearing Brooks Brothers. 

“Sorry,” you say apologetically, soft-pawing further into the room. You dare to lean on the back of the couch to look down at him, not quite ready to join him on his level. He seems to understand all too well, and is completely amused by it.

“That’s ok. I can’t keep my eyes off you either. You’re so beautiful.”

You let out a long breath through your nose, never comfortable with what to say to it. You’d been assured by so many people in your early life, that you were in fact an ugly little toad worth less than nothing. Later, those that told you that you were pretty, hurt you in different ways. You wish you could just…take it at face value, and say thanks, without overanalyzing it six hundred ways from Sunday.

“You don’t think so?” He asks, looking up at you with curious eyes. Since you walked through his door tonight, you’ve felt like he’s been studying you, and you sincerely hope it’s not to find your weaknesses and exploit them but rather understand them. 

It would be so nice to be understood by a man like Julian, even if he is chaining you to a wall and whipping you while doing it. The thought makes you giggle, and this seems to perplex and amuse him. 

“Well?” He asks, reaching up to boldly smooth your cheekbone. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?” 

You try to blame your honesty on the wine when you answer truthfully: “not really.” 

Most men don’t want to hear about insecurities and flaws; they want self actualized, confident women who carry themselves in a way you’ll never be able to. It's hard to have self esteem, especially when you’ve spent the majority of your life getting told you shouldn’t have any. 

“Hmm.” His thumb rests lightly on your chin, and he parts your mouth a little like he means to kiss you, although he makes no actual move to do so. “That’s another thing I could help you with.”

You're a little lost in the white capped crash of your thoughts, of the pleasant heat in his long, skilled fingers, of the endless dark in his blown black eyes. It takes you a full thirty seconds to think about the conversation, and even then you have to stupidly ask: “what?” 

“Feeling beautiful, because you are.” Maybe you don’t mind the bossy, matter of fact tone as much when it’s demanding that you’re worthy and pretty. 

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You ask, because you can’t stop thinking about how good his mouth feels on your face. 

“Ask me nicely.” That big thumb runs a torturous line over your parted bottom lip.

“You ask me,” you challenge, giggling at your own insolence. 

Oh, he loves that, when you push back. The wicked, lazy grin says it all. “How about I make you?”

You press your tummy against the soft, worn leather of his couch to lift yourself up and over, cupping his cheeks and pecking a little kiss to his silky lips. “I’d like to see you try.”

Apparently this is the absolute wrong thing—or absolute right thing—to say to this man, to make him spring up and over the couch, lithe as a panther in his pursuit of you, a feral grin in place. You are not proud, but your first instinct is to bolt, a little scream escaping your lips.

Which is stupid, of course, because he has the body of a runner and legs that are a mile long. You have no idea where you are going, down a convenient hallway. You make it three steps before this man has you grabbed up in his long arms, and he is kissing you as though he means to inhale you. He presses you into the wall, his solid weight so delicious against you, and you know there is no escape unless he decides to let you go.

Somehow, you don’t forsee that happening any time soon. 

You surge up on tiptoe to meet him with a moan, your hands sliding over the trim muscles of his chest. He easily grasps both your wrists in his one, obscenely big paw, pinning them above your head.

He pulls back to assess what you think about this, his dark eyes blown wide with desire. You can barely breathe past your heart thundering in your chest, your thighs pressed tightly in a sad attempt to relieve some of the ache between them. You lips are kiss-swollen and moist with his saliva, and you lick them, tasting him. His gaze fixes on your mouth hungrily, before lifting to your eyes again.

When you give the barest nod, he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time, but no less claiming. His lips are soft, and clever, and wreak havoc with your ability to think coherently. And when he slips his lean thigh between your legs so that you might get some relief, you think you might just expire from the pent up desire threatening to burst you at your seams.

It’s not good, you know, when you can’t help but think about Detective Tom Ludlow, and how part of this aching madness in your loins is built up from his brash brand of torture, and you can’t help but imagine what it might be like to feel his rough hands pinning you to the wall like a butterfly. Maybe it’s just the wine, but these distracted thoughts are not good at all.

Julian half carries you, half guides you in a halting walk further down the hallway, opening a door and ushering you inside. It’s a bedroom, though if its his room, you can’t really tell at a glance. It’s nicely decorated, fairly normal, no chains hanging from the ceilings or racks on the walls, and the bed is soft as he presses you back into it with another bone-melting kiss.

He props himself on his elbows so he can look down at you with a mischievous warm smile that lights up your insides. “You really are beautiful,” he tells you gently, tracing your hairline at your temple.

God. If he keeps telling you like this, maybe you will start believing him. 

You tug on his tie to bring him back to you, craving another of his sweet kisses. He narrows his eyes at you playfully, and you watch with fascination as he reaches up to loosen the silk noose around his neck. 

“Wait.” You halt him, hand on his chest, and he stops the little show. 

“What? You okay?” It doesn’t occur to you that this man is just as needy as you are until you hear the heavy pant in his voice, the gravelly scratch of desire polluting his usual smooth pitch that reminds you way too much of someone else that you’re trying not to think about—and failing miserably at. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for all of that,” you say honestly, opening up raw in exchange for the concern on his pretty, angled face. 

“Being tied up?” He asks, smoothing your hair off your temple. 

“No, I’ve been tied up before.” Although that’s a story for a different day, it’s not like you’re the Virgin Mary, and you don’t want to be—you don’t want him to think that you are—a prude. 

“Was it…a bad experience for you?” As he asks this he strokes your hair, petting you like soothing an animal with his light touch.

You hate to say, it’s working.

“Kind of.”

“Maybe…they didn’t stop something you didn’t like when you asked them to?”

That was the understatement of the century.

You close your eyes against the sinking feeling that overcomes you, when you even slightly crack the lockbox that is your stockpile of unpleasant memories from your youth.

“No,” you answer simply, but you know he can hear it all in the roughness of your voice in that one small word.

“What if we have a safeword? If I do anything you don’t like, you say the word, and I promise you I will stop.”

You freeze like a rabbit that's been spotted by a predator, as you mull this over. You know that’s how these things are supposed to go. But once a man has you tied up and at his mercy…he can do anything he wants with you. And men can be so awful, when they feel like they have all the power in their hands.

Is this man awful? It certainly doesn’t seem so. But dear god, you have been so wrong before.

“Maybe….” You roll your eyes up to the ceiling, searching for the right words, determined, for once, not to hide your own needs in favor of someone else’s. “Maybe if you help me understand why this is something you need so much?”

You know it’s possible you’re killing the vibe with such a demand—but maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to slow down and talk.

He blinks down at you, undoubtedly not used to being inquisitioned like this by anyone. “That’s…a big question.”

A surge of annoyance rises in you—as if dating isn’t dangerous enough for women as it is—he’s literally asking you to trust him with your life.

“Oh my god. Ok, get off.” You start to squirm beneath him, pushing at his chest. For a moment you panic, because he is big, and you know he’s not going anywhere, unless he wants to.

To his credit, and your great surprise–he actually does. He seems disappointed, and his breathing is heavy, his beautiful hair disheveled, but he’s not angry. At least, as far as you can tell. He shoves his hands in his pockets, maybe to keep them off of you.

It is hard not to stare at the sizeable bulge in his preppy khakis.

He blows a long breath out of his nostrils, closing his eyes. “I like to be in charge,” he tells you quietly, not opening his eyes, “Because when I was far too young, my stepmother groomed me to be her pretty plaything. I thought I was getting revenge on my father, because I was angry at him for divorcing my mother. But the joke was on me. I did…anything she asked, and she asked a lot. I didn’t even realize how fucked up it was, until I went away to college. When she sensed she was losing her hold on me, she actually tried to get me to drop out, then she tried to get me expelled. She was a fucking piece of work, and that’s why I am the way I am.” 

When at last he works up the courage to look at you, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed in your pretty dress like a rumpled flower, with tears in your eyes for him. “I’m so sorry, Julian…” You reach for him, even though you’re unsure he even wants to be held.

“And I like to bind my partners’ hands, because sometimes being touched during what should be the most wonderful act a man can enjoy reminds me of her, and I can’t stand it. Even…when I’m with someone who I want to touch me.” He gives you a pointed look then, and you understand, and you don’t think he’s trying to manipulate you. He’s just telling you an ugly truth.

Now, it seems you’re both agitated, and what had promised to be a lovely evening is now spiraling down into the abyss. You can’t help but feel responsible for that.

Julian shakes himself, and shakes his head. You feel him drawing away from you, even before he’s moved his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Then he does start to retreat, but you reach out to him. “Julian, wait…”

He freezes in his tracks, looking up at you through the curtain of his silky hair.

“Pineapple.” 

He lifts an eyebrow, genuinely confused. “Excuse me?”

“That’s my safe word.”

To be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you’re doing this because you want to, or because as usual, you sense someone needs a part of you for their own wellbeing, more than you think you do.

His mouth twists in a smile seemingly involuntarily. “I suppose that isn’t something one usually hears in the throes of passion.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Yes.” His look sharpens upon you then, and you feel a fresh gush of moisture between your legs, your bare toes curling. Suddenly, he seems taller, somehow, as though he’s taking up more space in the room than before. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

Not really, but this won’t be the first time you jump in head first to something you don’t know if you can handle. “Yeah. I believe you, when you say you won’t hurt me.”

Maybe you’re not sure exactly where the whole punishment thing fits in he was talking about earlier, but you assume you’ll get to that later.

He nods, his nostrils flaring as he looks you over again. You watch as his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. And then he returns to loosening that shining blue silk tie from his neck, sliding the fine fabric between his long fingers. “I picked this color tonight because I thought it would look so pretty on you,” he admits. 

“How…thoughtful?” You can’t help but tease him, even if your heart is suddenly hammering in your chest.

“Hmm. Someone always has something smart to say.” He strides across the room to you, boldly standing between your legs at the edge of the bed. 

“I think you like it?” You can’t help the squeak in your voice, and it makes him smirk down at you. It’s unnervingly similar to someone else who likes to throw around an insouciant half smile, and your fingers curl in the bedspread by your thighs.

Do not think about Tom right now.

It’s too late, of course.

“Give me your hands.” There is that authoritative tone again, that makes everyone at the hospital and out in the real world stand at attention. Everyone, but Tom Ludlow, of course. Unbidden, the image of Tom’s fist making that irreverent gesture out the window enters your head—and like the idiot you are, you smile.

It causes Julian to look at you strangely, searching you out. “What’s so funny?”

You sigh, closing your eyes against that probing stare. “I don’t know,” you deflect, master of the witty riposte as always. Hoping to distract him, you offer up your wrists. “Like this?” you ask, and golly if your ploy doesn’t work.

“That’s my good girl.” A damning warmth spreads through you from his praise, and you watch with fascination as he loops your wrists with the blue silk, tying it off with a beautiful bow that does look pretty against your skin. “We’ll start with this,” he tells you. “If you really want, you can undo it with your teeth.”

Biting your lip, you nod up at him, appreciating the gesture. 

“Tell me the safeword?” He asks, lifting your hands up above your head, looking absolutely feral, ready to eat you alive. 

“Pineapple,” you tell him, flexing your hands above your head and pushing your tits out for him. God, it’s been forever since you’ve had anything inside you besides your own boring fingers, and you’re more than ready for him to take the straining bulge out of his pants and slip it into your perpetually aching cunt. 

“Keep your hands above your head for me?” You can tell by his tone that it’s more of a demand than an ask, but at least he's trying to be sweet despite wrestling internally with some beast that wants to bind you immobile and shove a gag in your mouth. 

Every hair stands on end at just the thrill of having his silky, non committed tie around your wrists, so you wonder how you’d fair in something stricter. Apparently, your vagina likes the theory of it, because she pulses insistently for some kind of attention—Jesus, any kind of attention that’s not just from you.

You and her may argue sometimes—much more now that Ludlow has kicked the imaginary door of your life down and stormed in for a raid—but you still share the same brain, and both of you agree that Julian is very fucking hot while he takes off his upper attire to reveal toned, tight, thin muscle and perfect golden skin. 

“Is there, um, anything you want me to call you?” You ask, little toes curling and flexing on his comforter. 

“You want to properly address me?” His teeth peek out of the wayward grin, hands slipping the belt out of his pants and filling you with Tom thoughts again. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“How about Doctor? Something familiar?”

“Something tells me you’ve thought of this scenario before,” you muse, toying with the wrought iron post of his bed. You have to admit, Doctor isn’t your favorite term of endearment, but you suppose that if it makes him fuck you sooner it doesn’t really matter. 

Sans pants, his cock tents and fills his briefs, and that tiny creature living inside you comes out of her burrow to remind you that she’s very, very hungry. He really is a gorgeous specimen of a man. You could probably find his mimic in a museum statue or erotic magazine with only one huge, girthy difference. 

How the fuck is that monster not going to hurt you after years of only having your own little fingers for comparison? 

“Jesus,” you breathe, unaware that you say it out loud at first. 

He pumps his hand once or twice over the silk coated shaft, showing off that big, beautiful cock and rubbing a bead of pearly cum over the tip. “Hands above your head, y/n, and don’t make me say it a third time.” 

You bite your lip hard to keep from groaning in protest and place those conniving, sneaky limbs up above you again. “Yes, Doctor.” It would sound strange to you if you had any common sense right now—if your brain wasn’t currently leaking out of your cunt. 

A little piece of you—actually and worryingly it’s more than just a little piece—wants to challenge him to see exactly what he’ll do. 

“Do you want me to tell you what I wanted to do to you when you disobeyed my orders?” 

“Spank me?” You ask, words too bold for how you’re feeling—how your whole body is overflowing with burning, bashful blood and sinking into the cushion of his bed to hide. 

He laughs, low and wicked, and shakes his head. At least you get a little needy grumble from him, although you’re not sure if that’s because he’s stroking his cock or not. “No, not spank you. I think you’d enjoy that too much.”

“Then what?” You raise your chin a little bit, and the look he pins you with reminds you of what wild horses must see in the person’s eyes that wants to ride and break and domesticate them. A little panic alarm lights up your brain, and it gets louder the more he talks. 

“Instead of rubbing these tired, sore feet, I would have gotten a thin piece of finished wood and whipped them with it.” 

Your toes instantly curl and tuck in defense, heels digging into the bed to shy away from his mean words. “I don’t know if I’d like that,” you admit.

“That’s the point of a punishment, little girl. You’re not supposed to like it.” Julian transforms into something scary for the first time, and you think this might be that dominant side of him coming to bat again. You don’t really like it when he’s all business no play, void of jokes and grins, snarling like a rabid jaguar. 

“Julian, I don’t think I’m comfortable with that. It scares me.” 

His ferocity goes limp right along with his dick, and the sight of that makes you want to scream and cry and pound your fists on the floor like a tantrum throwing child. Your vagina, who was just minutes ago getting along with you, once again wants you dead. 

Dr. Jekyll sits beside you on the bed and puts a soothing, heating pad hand on your belly. “I’m sorry, are you alright? I shouldn’t have gone into that so fast. I got carried away. It’s been a while.” 

Although his apology is warranted, and what he says is true about going too far, that caretaker in your blood wants nothing more than to soothe him while he has a mini existential crisis about making you feel uncomfortable. You sit up and rub his shoulders with bound hands. 

“Julian, it’s okay. I get it. I’m sorry.” 

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” he replies, combing a hand through his soft hair. “We should have discussed details before jumping in. I just”—he cups your cheek and kisses your head—“I’ve wanted you for a long time.” 

The thought of having to go through a detailed discussion before having sex with your partner every time has the opposite effect of Tom Ludlow’s—fuck, here he is again—spontaneity and makes your pussy dry up. 

As though he senses you’re about to take your teeth to his very nice silk tie, he turns to unbind your hands with one deft pull. You feel fine, but you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your wrists. You sit there in the quiet together for what feels like a long time, your head resting lightly on his shoulder.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” He takes your hand, kissing your palm. “That thing I told you? It’s not something I offer up freely to anyone. Not even my playmates.”

You nod against him. “I understand.”

“I just…wanted you to know me.”

The human need to lay yourself bare in the hopes of acceptance is something you understand all too well—and something you never do anymore, because it just always ends badly. That he wanted you that much squeezes your heart in a merciless fist, because the healer in you wants to help him, but you’re not sure you can give this man what he really needs.

“Did you…want me before I talked back to you?” Suddenly the question is burning in your brain and you have to know.

Julian smirks at that. “You’ve always talked back to me, y/n.” With that he kisses your forehead, and starts to get dressed again. 

What a goddamned shame.

It’s totally not helpful, but you can’t stop yourself from thinking that if Tom had you in this position tonight, you wouldn’t be able to walk right, and not because you’d said the wrong thing and got yourself punished with a sliver of wood or whatever the fuck Julian kept in his closet.

You wouldn’t be going home feeling even emptier than when you arrived.

Maybe, you wouldn’t be going home at all.

Julian asks you to stay with him a while longer to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie—some cheap new thriller that makes you both jump and gasp. It’s sort of funny, to watch the man that was just spouting off his desire to use ancient torture methods on you get scared at a guy with a shiny knife popping out of bushes. 

At one point, while you’re laying on his bare chest and inhaling the citrusy sweat of his skin and becoming increasingly warm to the idea of giving his discarded silky tie another try, you start tracing your fingers down the hard line of his stomach, flicking over the elastic of his thin sweatpants. 

He stalls your movement, and looks down at you apologetically. “Not tonight, honey.” 

You know he was just fiending for your bound form with his dick in his hand, so you’re not sure why he’s stopping you, but your woe-is-me brain immediately, and as usual, jumps to the conclusion that he never wanted you in the first place. 

You will not be the giving tree anymore. You will not be the obsessed, lovesick girl willing to do anything just to get that same love back. You won’t—you can’t—do it again. 

“It’s late,” you sigh, sitting up. You’ve long sobered from dinner, and you’re tired, and you kind of want to be alone so you can go home and cry. “Thank you for dinner.” You’re not so sure about the rest, and in the rueful curl of Julian’s lips you can tell he’s well aware how disappointing all this was. For both of you, you suppose. He kisses you goodnight at the door, and you get in your car to drive home.

#tom ludlow x reader #street kings #tom ludlow #keanuverse fic #keanuverse

[wlntrsldler]

blurb based on this post.

pre-claiming, pre-betrayal, luke castellan x poseidon!reader, fluff.

while i bathe in cliffside pools with my calamitous love and insurmountable grief.

“rumor has it, capture the flag is coming up,” luke said. he was ripping blades of grass from beside him as his head laid on your stomach. he was facing the blue sky, letting the droplets of water roll off his bare skin.

you’d just emerged from your impromptu dip in the lake to escape the growing heat of summer. you had his camp shirt on top of your body, finding the faint scent of his cologne on the neckline of the shirt comforting. “already? they’re really trying to get us at each other’s throats as soon as possible.”

“yeah,” he scoffed. he rolled his head to face you. “it’s beth’s turn to come up with a strategy.”

there was pride in his eyes, like there always was when he talked about annabeth. you wondered if you had the same sparkle when you talked about her too. it was hard not to be proud of annabeth. after all, you’d known her since she was seven, when you, luke, and thalia found her wandering alone.

you tried not to think of those days too much. those days were painful and lonely; unfair that children were left to fend for themselves. even though you and luke were the oldest of the bunch, you were still just fourteen. at fourteen, you should’ve been dreading the perils of freshman year of high school, not wondering if you’d be fortunate enough to reach sixteen.

“how’s percy holding up?” you asked. your fingers tugged on a strand of hair that was bouncing back into his usual curls. you felt luke soften at your touch.

“he’s doing okay,” luke answered after a beat. “as well as anyone would be after finding out.”

“he’s a tough one, i can tell,” you replied. you attempted to move your hand from luke’s hair, but he held it in place. you complied, starting to rub his scalp. “has he been claimed yet?”

“no, he hasn’t.”

the topic of being claimed was a touchy subject for you as an unclaimed child. the first few months at camp, you had your hopes that your time was coming soon. your godly parent had to claim you eventually, right? but as the months turned into a year and a year turned into five, you lost all hope. somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself that you made peace with it.

luke, on the other hand, never did. there were many things he hated about the gods. most of it were general things that made sense; neglecting their children, having them do their dirty work, making them go on dangerous quests where they’re likely to get killed; but the thing that he hated them for the most was that they made you feel unworthy of being acknowledged.

to everyone else at camp, they saw you as someone who beat the odds despite not knowing who your godly parent was. you became a skilled swordsman, coming second only to luke, skilled at archery, and such an incredible leader, but luke didn’t attribute that to your godly parent. he attributed that to your character. your greatness had nothing to do with the gods.

but luke also knew you better than anyone else. he knew that even though you acted like you didn’t care about being claimed, there was still a part of you that stayed fourteen, that stayed hopeful, that one day your parent would claim you.

luke let his lips linger on your hipbone, a reminder that he was still there, as if trying to convince you that while your parent didn’t care enough to claim you, he did. he would shout it from every rooftop, if he could. in fact, on the trip to olympus, he stood at the top of the empire state building and declared his love for you.

chiron, who was forced to discipline him for his antics, banned him for getting dessert for two weeks, but sent you a sly wink as he was telling luke his punishment. you didn’t comment about how you managed to be given two desserts ‘accidentally’ everyday during luke’s punishment.

“we should probably head back soon,” you mumbled, though you made no effort to get up. luke snuggled deeper into you from where he laid. “it’s almost dinner.”

“yeah,” luke sighed. “you’re probably right.”

neither of you made it to dinner, but grover managed to sneak the both of you a handful of strawberries to eat.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan blurb #pjo #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo series #frances writes #frances song fics

[cinnamostar]

four dates to fall in love

part one. part two. part three. part four (here). part five (coming soon).

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.7k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, blood/knife ments (no injury, theyre just cooking lol), emotional vulnerability

a/n : welcome to part four. the slow burn is absolutely slowburning. things are happening. i dont have much to say other than it being hard for me to write, but pls let me know what you think!!!!!! likes and reblogs appreciated!

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“It went well?” Chan exclaimed in shock over your speakerphone.

You hum in agreement, confusion in the forefront of your mind, “Surprisingly, it went better than I could have ever imagined,” a sigh escapes you, “I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“Well, the fact he even apologized caught me off guard in the first place.”

You laugh lightly, “Oh, trust me, I still am having a hard time believing it. It’s been so long of him being an asshole to me, so seeing him like this was… very different. A little scary, if I’m being honest.”

“Yet it still went well even though it was kinda weird?”

“I mean, it was really awkward at the start which was annoying, but I can’t blame him. He genuinely did look like he felt bad, so it probably was hard to be in his position,” you think aloud, “But it was getting too much and he was putting a damper on the mood, so I tried to make him more comfortable, which worked. Then we started talking, and I don’t really know how to say it, but it felt… really nice? It made me realize that maybe I did miss our friendship.”

“Well, you guys did get along really well before everything happened. To be honest, I thought there was something more going on before then,” Chan recalls, “Though, his sudden change made me realize I was way off.”

Your eyebrows furrow at Chan’s comment, “Something more? Like romantic?”

He chuckles from the other end of the line, “Yeah, I thought something was going on between you two. You guys just seemed to click really well, better than any other costar you’ve had in the past, even to this day. Lowkey thought it was going to be a Tom Holland and Zendaya moment.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, “Definitely not that, I never thought of him that way.”

“You say that, but I remember the heart eyes you used to look at him with,” he teases.

“Oh, shut up. I did not. Besides, that’s not what’s important in the present time!”

He rolls his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel it in his tone, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re right though, it is a difficult situation for both of you to be in. Other than it being uncomfortable, how are you feeling about it?”

You let out a heavy sigh, “I mean, part of me is happy to be able to have a normal relationship with him, but… I’m still really mad at him for how he treated me. I don’t think it’s something I can let go of yet.”

“That’s okay. You have time to process all of that, no one is rushing you.”

“I know, but for a moment yesterday, I kinda forgot about all that. I had fun with him, and I want to keep having fun, but then I remember everything and feel so… upset that I am even letting him back into my life, even if it's for a bit.”

“Huh…” Chan muddles over your words for a moment, “That is quite the dilemma. I think you have every right to be upset at him, but I also think it’s okay if you miss your friend. I just think you have to figure out what kind of boundaries you want to set for yourself then. I think you can still have a nice time with him without him earning your forgiveness just yet. He can be a surface level friend or acquaintance until he proves himself trustworthy again.”

“You’re right, but I just didn’t like how easily it slipped my mind. Part of me feels like I should still be more on guard and not as friendly, but he makes that hard too.”

“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he reassures, “You’ll figure it out, but it’s perfectly fine for you to have fun, while still having boundaries, okay?”

You sigh, still a bit unconvinced by his words, “I guess…”

“I know it’s hard, I can’t imagine what it's like to be in your position, but I promise it will be okay.”

“I’ll believe you just this once!”

“You say that every time, but sure, just this once. Call you tomorrow, alright?”

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It was the next evening, and you were anxiously waiting in your apartment for Hyunjin to arrive. You weren’t sure how today was going to go, and the idea Changbin had for you both today made you nervous, as it felt as a far more intimate setting than the previous dates. Although, you couldn’t entirely argue with his logic. Today, he suggested that you both cooked a simple dinner with each other, the idea being that it would help you both learn how to work together towards a common goal, which was dinner in this case.

Despite you being able to understand the logic behind his idea, it was incredibly intimidating to think about having Hyunjin in your own home, especially considering the sudden change in dynamic in your relationship. Even then, you didn’t just let anyone into your home, as you only ever had your closest friends come over for small hang outs, so this was far outside of your comfort zone, but perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe going out of your comfort zone with Hyunjin would only help you both succeed the next time you found yourselves on set, and perhaps something as intimate as cooking together would help you both ease into your roles.

A knock on the door wakes you from your thoughts, prompting you to shuffle hurriedly towards the door to open it for none other than Hyunjin. He greets you with a gentle smile, bowing his head slightly as you let him in wordlessly. There is an awkwardness that hangs in the atmosphere, indicating that you both were uncomfortable with today’s plans and he, too, was likely struggling to find the right words to say.

You take a deep breath in, almost as if you were catching your breath, “Welcome to my place!” You cringe internally at yourself, unable to handle the intensity of the awkwardness between you two and how poor your attempt was to disperse it.

“It’s really nice!” he compliments, standing in place by the entrance after removing his shoes.

“Thank you,” you respond, “Uhm, just follow me, the kitchen is this way. And all the ingredients are ready for us to use, Changbin had them delivered.”

Hyunjin follows you into the kitchen, his eyes taking in every detail around him, filling him with delight to see how characteristic of you the apartment was, it being a perfect representation of your personality. “What are we making again? I don’t think Changbin filled me in.”

“Oh, we’re just making curry udon! It’s something I’ve made before and it’s not too hard. My bad, I didn’t tell Changbin what we were making which is probably why he didn’t tell you. All I did was send him an ingredient list.”

“I forgot you like cooking,” he replies as he stops in your kitchen, quickly turning to the sink to wash his hands.

You hum in response, washing your hands after him, “I think it can be relaxing, but uh, if you want you can start with chopping the carrots and potatoes? I’ll handle the onion and garlic.” Hyunjin nods and follows your orders without much trouble, or so you think, until you turn around and see him holding the knife in a very precarious and questionable manner. Your eyes widen as you rush towards, “Oh my god, that is not how you should be trying to cut a potato. Have you not chopped a veggie in your entire life?”

He smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, “Listen, I don’t do this cooking thing often,” a gentle chuckle leaving him as he takes amusement in your concern, his heart thumping over the sudden proximity you both now shared.

“I-,” you sigh with a baffled expression, “Okay, let me just show you because I am not having you accidentally bleeding out all over my counter.” 

“You’re more worried about your counters than me?”

“Shut up,” you suppress a laugh before softly whispering, “Here, just do it like this,” you reach over and lay your hands atop of his without second thought, guiding him on how to position his hands without the risk of injury. Once you’ve become aware of how your bodies are pressed up against each other from the side, you jump away in an instant, “That’s it! That’s all you gotta do.” You’re quick to avoid eye contact with him, turning towards your own cutting board as you chastise yourself for being so careless with him at that moment.

Hyunjin’s face and ears were soon dusted with a soft pink, heat rushing across his body over the interaction that seemed so natural, but manages to mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ before trying his knife skills out once more. Despite your momentary embarrassment, you are sure to take sneaky peaks at Hyunjin to make sure he was handling himself well. You move on from chopping and turn your attention to seasoning the chicken while Hyunjin was still focused on the vegetables, going at a leisurely place which you much preferred in this case. 

The rest of cooking goes on in silence aside from the occasional instruction or question, small witty jokes, and touches that seemed to linger more than necessary, but perhaps that was your imagination. Once everything was done, you both sat across from each other, admiring the fruits of your shared labor that was now plated in front of you both. 

“It looks really good!” Hyunjin comments enthusiastically, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face. 

“It does, right? Let’s eat!”

Neither you miss a beat, taking a huge bite of the udon noodles, letting out a delighted groan over just how flavorful the food was. “Woah,” Hyunjin groans out, surprise at how well tonight had gone thus far with the added victory of food, “Holy shit, this is so yummy.”

“Mhmm,” you mumble out between slurping noodles, “This is better than when I make it on my own.”

“It’s the Hyunjin special that you’ve been missing this whole time,” he says matter-of-factly with a smug smile.

“You’re being pretty bold for a guy who just learned how to hold a knife today,” you tease, playfully sticking your tongue out. Your eyes catch each other for a moment between your fits of giggles, time stopping for the briefest second possible before you both avert your eyes out of nerves. What was that? You thought frantically to yourself, suddenly hyper aware of the strange warmth in your stomach that was also accompanied with the feeling of your stomach dropping. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one you didn’t know how to explain or ever experienced before, but you did know you didn’t want that combination of symptoms again for whatever emotion this was. You clear your throat, taking a sip of water as if it would wash away the discomfort, “I guess we are pretty good, huh? Maybe our acting project has hope if we are able to work this well together,” you joke, a very poor, if not disastrous, attempt to alleviate the awkwardness that seemed to follow you everywhere these days.

Your words stab Hyunjin in the heart, the guilt he had once forgotten was knocking at the door of his heart, forcing itself in without his permission. His entire demeanor deflated the moment those words left your lips, his heart writhing at the reminder that the only reason this situation existed was because of him and his blinding stupidity. Yet, here you are, warmly inviting into your home and treating him as if he was an old friend of the past, as if he had never wounded you and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of any of this. He stood still, gulping down his food before faintly whispering a hushed apology.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head snaps back up, your eyebrows furrowing with worry once you sense the sadness lacing his trembling voice, his head now turned downwards as if he was trying to mask his state. Perhaps the joke was a little too soon, you thought, now it being your turn to feel bad. “Ah, Hyunjin, I’m sorry-” you apologize hurriedly, “It was just a joke, please don’t take it too seriously. I’m sorry.”

He forces a smile, waving his hand as if to tell you to not worry about it, the words at the forefront of his tongue, but caught in his throat due to the heaviness sinking in his chest. Once again, shame paralyzed his body, the warm sensation behind his eyes reminding him to blink, reminding him he shouldn’t be so selfish in his pain when he was the cause of so much discomfort. Was any of this okay? Was any of this right? He wonders to himself, still unable to find forgiveness within himself. 

“Hyunjin,” you speak tenderly, your hand reaching across the table to touch his arm, grounding him back in the present, “I promise, it’s okay.” You knew that last bit was a lie, but it was for his own sake and comfort at this point. His treatment, his behavior, his attitude – none of it was ever okay, but you decided to ignore your own feelings and prioritize his. For the first time in two years, you cared about how he felt, you finally cared how your words harmed him, when before all you ever aimed for was a strike to his heart, but today, you chose to comfort his heart that your words unintentionally wounded. Although, your own heart and conscience briefly argued for a moment, one wanting to tend to his hurt, while the other demanded you let him rot in his misery, insisting he deserved it for what he had put you through. It was a tug-of-war you weren’t enjoying, you had almost wished you two remained in your heated hatred for one another and that nothing ever changed. Despite what your mind screamed at you, you chose to listen to your heart, you chose him over yourself.

He takes a deep breath in, trying to collect himself before speaking, “I just–,” a heavy exhale escapes him, “I’m just sorry. I just feel really, really, really bad for everything, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to feel bad when I was the one to hurt you.”

His eyes met yours, the glassiness of his eyes conveying the depth of his guilt, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you whisper apologetically, “Listen, I won’t lie to you, what you did was shitty. You did hurt me, but that is in the past. You feeling bad about it means you’re a good person, right? It means you’re human and that you care, but I don’t want you to let your guilt overwhelm you either.”

It was a genuine response in a moment of sudden vulnerability, your response taking him aback, but the words temporarily placating his never ending thoughts, “I guess, but… I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to yet, but you can learn to eventually,” you reply, “I understand it’s hard, and even I still need more time to do that myself, but I do think you deserve to be kind to yourself.” None of that was a lie, you did truly believe he was deserving of his own compassion, but his culpability helped you see the humanity in him. The spitefulness you once knew him for nowhere to be found, but instead there was only a guilt-ridden man who carried a world of humiliation. “I think I can learn to do so soon, too. Spending time with you helps. Besides, I did miss being friends with you if I’m being honest.”

The last sentence causes him to perk up, a small, satisfied smile playing onto your lips, “Really?” he asks, his ears barely believing your words, but his heart was swelling with hope. His eyes search yours, he can’t help but notice how they glimmer under the soft lowlights of your home, and for some reason, he finds warmth and comfort in them. He knows he can trust you, he knows you are being as candor as possible.

“Really, I mean it.”

“I missed it too.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to learn to trust you again. I’ll learn to forgive you eventually, just for now, it still hurts.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll learn too.”

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taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba taglist cut off at 20 people :)

#cinnamostar writes #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x you #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin fic #hyunjin imagines #skz slowburn

[flappingdragon]

can u do how the om brothers would react to a mc that is like. (for lack of better words) EXTREMELY dumb ..... like karen smith level slow💀

Lmao I LOVE this idea. The best part is that I can definitely relate to this lol.

Content Rating: SFW

Content Warning: None, GN!MC

Characters: ✨The Seven Brothers✨

Additional Info: MC is very slow to understand, the brothers are patient, shorter HC’s this time (sorry), we love dumbfounded MC, the brothers love MC

Lucifer

He finds it quite surprising, actually

That the fact that there is such a human who is so oblivious to so many things

He first noticed when you walked into his office and he was on a phone call, but you didn’t see he was and you just continued to talk

He had to tell you to hush

He also told you to be more aware of other people’s situations

But he loves that about you

He even finds it endearing

Mammon

You’re in the same boat as him

You both take so long to understand a joke and you often find yourself looking at each other with confused expressions

It will take you both at least a day or two to understand what something meant or recognize what was happening at a given moment

Sometimes if one of you find something out before the other, one of you will rush to tell the other

It’s a cycle you two repeat endlessly and it’s hilarious

He’s just happy he finally found someone who can relate to him

Leviathan

If you’re slow to figure something out, whether it be a “why does this character to this and that” or a “what do you mean by that”, prepare to have a very long rundown conversation

Levi LOVES to explain everything to you in very large detail

He also loves the fact that you will volunteer to understand everything about a show he gets absorbed in

That means pulling an all nighter to go through every single manga volume or watch every episode of an anime

And if you ever need to know anything, he’s got your back

He fawns over you and the fact that he gets to talk to such a human like you and express his love for things to you without hearing you complain

He’s head over heals for you

Satan

Usually, if you ever find yourself struggling to understand something in a book or something you’re studying, he’ll explain it to you in the most simple way possible

Or if you need a more detailed and longer explanation, he’s happy to give you one

He’s an excellent source if you ever need help with your R.A.D school work

He’s also a walking dictionary

So if you don’t know what a word means, just ask him

He gets an ego boost every time you go to him and not one of his brothers

He loves the trust you put in him

Asmodeus

He usually gets stumped on how to explain things you don’t understand that isn’t of the sexual, joking manner

But he’ll try extra hard just for you

Like if you don’t understand how makeup works, he’ll more so demonstrate than tell you

It’s easier for him

And if you’re more of a visual and hands-on learner, then you’re in luck!

Because he won’t give up until you’ve mastered whatever art you ask for help in, even if it’s a skill he isn’t an expert in

He just loves how he can be in your company for hours and not get tired of you

Beelzebub

It doesn’t matter if you’re well conversed in food culture or not, he will explain everything about a certain food item to you down to the very soil the ingredients were planted in

He would talk for hours just describing the taste of food or furniture

Make sure to get him a snack to munch on while you get him to talk about food or he might just start nibbling on your arm instead

He loves the way he can talk to you about his favourite snacks and meals without making you bored or tired of his nonsense rambling

Belphegor

Ask him where the best napping spots are and he’ll make a five page full analysis on where he thinks the best spots are

He’ll explain why if you ever ask

He will even invite you to his favourite; the attic

Then he’ll continue to explain there

He’ll also act as if it’s the best thing that’s ever happened in his life

I mean, he gets to talk to someone who actually wants to know about his favourite napping places?

Count him IN

He loves the way you will earnestly listen to him and he also loves the fact that you will fall asleep with him when he asks

A/N: I hope I answered your ask correctly! I hope everything made sense bc I didn’t go back and proofread anything. Thanks for reading! Thanks for requesting, anon! 💜

#obey me #obey me nb #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me fandom #obey me mc #obey me mammon #mammon obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me swd #obey me ask #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me fluff #obey me brothers #obey me requests #obey me reader #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me gn!reader #obey me gn!mc #gn reader #gn!mc #thanks for the ask! #i love them all

[cuttergauthier]

New Leaf | Two

Au Summary: In which a hockey sister falls for her enemy who also happens to be her brother's new teammate.  Yn Matthews and Matthew Knies never got along, what happens when Matthew becomes a Maple Leaf.

Matthew Knies x Matthews au

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN

Social Media | Real Life

National Hockey League | Toronto Maple Leaf

Word Count: 1.8k 

Au's Masterlist

Warning: This Story will contain Mature Language, Alcohol consumption, Against, fluff, Time jumps

I woke up at 7 a.m. so I could take a shower and have time to get ready.

Tomorrow, Matthew is going to be making his NHL debut. I talked to his brother last night, he said he was going to be in town at around 8 a.m.  He said he would take an uber to my apartment before going to see his brother. The boys have an early morning practice today with the rest of the day off.

I know sooner rather than later I have to tell my brother about the fact that I know Matthew’s family. I’m so excited yet nervous to see the Knies family in Toronto I can’t even let myself worry about my brother right now.

I went and took a shower, once I was done, I curled my hair and did some natural makeup. I decided to wear some black washed high waisted skinny jeans with a beige long sleeve scoop neck bodysuit. Once I was done getting ready it’s 8:15 a.m.  i texted Phil to see if he was on his way.

Yn: have you guys landed yet?

Phil: Yes, i’m on my way to your place right now!

Yn: Perfect, i’m making myself some breakfast, do you want some?

Phil: Yes please, i’m starving!

Yn: You got it, see you soon!

I put my phone on the kitchen counter before making my way to the fridge. I opened the door and grabbed some eggs and an avocado. I made my way to the oven and started cooking the eggs. I put two pieces of toast in the toaster, one for me and one for Phil. Once they were ready I mashed the avocado and put it on the two pieces of the toast before putting the egg on top. As I was about to sit down to eat there was a knock on the door. I walked over and opened the door. Phil was standing there smiling.

“Hey Yn, I missed you” he said before wrapping me in a hug.

“I missed you too Phil, come in, I made avocado toast.” I said smiling.

“Yum.” he said as I closed the door and we made our way to the kitchen.

I put his plate on the table and he sat down.

“Do you want anything to drink?” i asked.

“Water please.” he said, i chuckled.

I went to the fridge and grabbed him a bottle of water.

“Thank you” he said when i give it to him.

“You’re welcome.”

We ate in silence, once we were done i put our empty plates in the sink and we both made our way to the living room and sat down on the couch.

“So I need to ask you something,” he said nervously.

I looked at him, raising my eyebrows.

“Oh no, is it bad?” i ask

“Depends how you look at it”

“What is it?”

“My parents are taking Matty out for dinner later on, they want you to join us, they miss you”

“Oh god” I groaned.

“Will you join us?”

“Yeah, but only because I miss your parents, if Matthew gets on my nerves I'm leaving.” I said seriously.

“Perfect and don’t worry he’ll be fine, especially since it’s with my parents” he said and i nodded.

“Does he know you’re here right now?” i ask.

“No, i didn’t tell him but i know he had practice this morning”

“True… what time are we going to dinner with your parents?”

“5:30, Then my parent’s want to explore Toronto with him and who better to show us around then you” he said smirking.

I rolled my eyes.

“Fine, I guess it can be that bad right?” i said

“Nope you’re going to have fun” he said, making me chuckle.

Phil left earlier to go to John Tavares’ house, that’s apparently where Matthew is staying, I told him I would meet them at the restaurant.

I am currently studying a little bit before I have to leave. My phone rang next to me, i looked to see that my brother texted me.

Auston: Are you busy later?

I stared at the text nervously, what do I tell him? I can’t exactly lie to him. But if he didn’t know about me knowing Matthew he’s going to now.

Yn: Going out to dinner! Why?

Auston: with who? And I wanted to see if you wanted to come over.

Yn: with a friend and his family, they want to explore Toronto after dinner, i thought i would since i’ve been living here for 2 years.

Auston: HIS?!?! Who is he? Is he not from Toronto? How do you know him? Please tell me it’s not a hockey player?

Yn: His name is Phil, HE is just a friend, no he’s not from here, yes he plays hockey but not in the NHL, you do know his brother thought.

Auston: How do you know this guy? And where does he play? Who’s his brother?

Yn: Stop being so overprotective, he’s from Arizona, he currently plays for a team in Slovakia.

Auston: Oh, so you went to high school with him? And you didn’t answer my question!

Yn: not exactly 5 years older than me, but he’s a good guy. We have a lot of the same friends back home, his brother is the same age as me. He and I have the same group of friends!

Auston: You still didn’t answer my question, who’s his brother?

Yn: He’s your new teammate, Knies.

Auston: YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH KNIES?!?!

Yn: Not exactly… he has all the same friends, but he and I aren’t exactly close, but yeah i guess.

Auston: Why the hell did you never tell me this before?

Yn: It’s not like it was a secret, I honestly thought you knew… he’s in some of my pictures on insta with our friends, i just never tagged him.

Auston: You are lucky that i love you… you still should have told me when he got drafted.

Yn: I know… i’m sorry.

Auston: he better not hurt you, or i’ll hurt him!

Yn: his brother and parents love me, they would put him in his place if he ever hurt me, you don’t have to worry!

After I answered him I saw it was now 4:30 p.m. so I put my stuff away and grabbed my purse and leather jacket since it’s still a little chilly outside and made my way to my car.

I didn’t want to be stuck in traffic so I made my way to the restaurant earlier.

I got stuck in a little bit of traffic so by the time I arrived at the restaurant it was 5:20 p.m. I’m 10 minutes early so I texted Phil to see if they are already here.

Yn: Are you guys here yet? I just parked.

Phil: Yes we just got here, just tell the waitress, my mom made a reservation it’s under knies.

Yn: Perfect on my way!

I got out of the car and made my way inside. The waitress looked at me and smiled.

“Hey, welcome to (Restaurant) do you have a reservation?” she asked nicely.

“Yes, it’s under Knies,” I said.

“Perfect, right this way” she said.

She led me to the table. When Michaela, Phil and Matthew’s mom saw me, she smile happily and got up to give me a hug.

“It’s so good to see you sweetheart, I missed you so much” she whispered in my ear.

“It’s so good to see you too, I missed you guys”

When she let me go, their dad wrapped me in a hug.

“I’m happy that you could join us” he said.

“Same here”

He let me go and we all sat down.

We ordered our food and talked.

“How’s university?” Michaela asked.

“It’s good, I only have one exam left and i’ll be done with my second year.” I said smiling.

“When is it?”

“Tomorrow morning” I said, her eyes wide.

“I hope we aren’t keeping you from studying,'' she said worriedly.

I chuckled. Matthew was staring at me.

“No, I've been studying non-stop. I need a break, so being here is perfect,"I said smiling.

“Good, you shouldn’t be overworking yourself”

“Matthew, are you excited for tomorrow?” I asked him, and he looked surprised that I actually talked to him.

“Yeah, but also nervous” He said

“You’ll be fine bro” Phil said, patting his back.

“The guys will have your back, you’ll be fine” I said, smiling softly. He gave me a smile and nodded.

Once we ate, we made our way into downtown Toronto, I showed them around. Once it was getting late, they made their way to their hotel. Matthew stopped me before I was able to leave.

I turned around and looked at him confused, he doesn’t like me so why would he want to be alone with me?

“Can we talk alone for a few minutes?” he asked.

I nodded slowly. We started walking on the sidewalk, he didn’t say anything.

“Are you going to say whatever you wanted to say?” I asked.

He sighed before his hand made its way to his hair.

“Just so you know, if you don’t feel the same way we can go back to hating each other” he said making me really confused, what the hell was he going to say?

I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

He took a deep breath before blurting out his feelings.

“I like you, like a lot… I just can’t keep hiding how I feel. I wanted to tell you last summer before I left for Minnesota but I never got the chance. I know this is probably the worst time to tell you since I’m about to be your brother’s teammate, but I really needed you to know.” He said.

I stared at him with wide eyes. My mouth kept opening and closing, I didn’t know what to say. I like him too but I just thought he hated me. Matt looked really nervous looking at me, he started shaking his head.

“Look, just forget I ever said anything, we can go back to hating each other… I’m going to go” he said and he turned around to walk away, I snapped out of it. I grabbed his hand and pulled him to me before smashing our lips together. Matt just stood there in shock before realizing what was happening before he started kissing me back.

Our lips moved in sync, Matt moved his hands on my waist and pulled me closer to him.

We pulled away breathing heavily, our foreheads touching, Matt smiled down at me.

“Does this mean you feel the same way?” he asked, smirking, I chuckled.

“Yes it does.” I replied smiling.

“Does this mean that I can take you out on a date after the game tomorrow night?” he asked

“I’d love that, but maybe we shouldn’t tell my brother right away since he doesn’t even know we know each other” I said and he nodded.

“Good idea,” he said.

We made plans for our date tomorrow before I made my way home.

That night I went to bed with the biggest smile on my face.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl fluff #nhl blurbs #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #nhl #hockey #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #nhl hockey #ncaa hockey fic #Toronto Maple Leafs #matthew knies #matthew knies blurb #matthew knies imagine #matthew knies fic #matthew knies fluff #auston matthews #Matthew Knies x Matthews au #mitch marner #william nylander

[hornyhornyhimbos]

can we get a glimpse into the future of how cowboy steve and reader are doing? do they still own the bar he bought for them and do they have kids? it would be cute to see steve have a mini him that loves to ride bulls

so so sorry for just now getting around to posting this!! more on that later but for now, i hope you enjoy!!!!

"When She Says Baby" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: Excitement is high as the Harringtons celebrate the two year anniversary of opening their little bar. But for Reader, anxiety is also high as her yearly gynecologist's appointment rolls around…

Pairing: Bull Rider!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,285

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, creampie, oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, breeding kink, daddy kink, sorta cockwarming but not really, sorta dubious consent (they're in an established relationship but were both tipsy beforehand), dirty talk, explicit language, alcohol consumption, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i haven't really written a breeding kink before so if this is bad, i apologize // also really could've sworn i queued this yesterday so let's all pretend it's still filthy friday, ok??

Based On: the rest of this series and the ask mentioned above!

Originally Written: 06/23/2023 through 06/28/2023

filthy fridays | stranger things masterlist

Your veins had been burning all day with some mixture of adrenaline, excitement and anxiety.

It was the two year anniversary of opening Harrington's Honky-Tonk, which Steve had reluctantly agreed on calling it, and the day had been filled with preparation for the big party that night. Fans had come from just about anywhere in Indiana and the surrounding states when they heard Steve Harrington was celebrating the momentous occasion with half-off drinks and a big announcement at the end of the night.

Your day, however, started to go a little differently when you arrived at your gynecologist's office for your yearly check-up.

You weren't necessarily nervous because of something potentially bad. It wasn't like you were pregnant, you and Steve used two different types of protection nearly every time you had sex. And it definitely wasn't like you had an STI, considering you and Steve had been loyal to each other for so many years.

No, what had you anxious was the fact that you needed your IUD replaced. Or, maybe you didn't…

Every part of your brain knew you should've talked to Steve before the appointment about what route to take. You were a hundred percent positive that getting pregnant was nowhere in the cards for the near future. Still, some part of you knew having the IUD replaced wasn't what you wanted. So, instead of getting it replaced, you decided to simply have the old one taken out.

Some weird jumble of both guilt and relief fluttered around in your stomach the whole afternoon and into the night. The only time you'd found a tiny bit of solace was in the two shots of vodka you'd downed at the party, but toward the end of the night, it had certainly worn off and the feeling from before quickly returned.

Steve must've noticed, pulling you away from the bar and into the back room. You were tempted to down a whole bottle of vodka from the rack beside you rather than admit your secret to him, but thought better of it.

"You alright?" he asked, his hand brushing yours as if asking permission to hold it. Despite being married for over a year now and having been together for five years in total, he was still a gentleman. Holding doors for you, giving you the last of his fries, and asking permission on almost everything were practically daily occurrences with Steve around.

You nodded softly, despite being the exact opposite of that seven letter word he'd just used. "I'm okay, just stressed about tonight."

Steve's big announcement was the whiskey brand he'd been working on, and while you weren't all that nervous about the fans' reactions—you knew it would go over well, the way his fans adored him—part of you had still been a little scared about the financial aspect of it. Starting a new company was difficult—you'd both experienced that firsthand.

One of his hands moved up to cup your cheek, distracting you from your current train of thought. His thumb rubbed soft lines along your skin. "Hey, whatever happens happens, right?" he reassured you. He pulled you up for a soft kiss on the forehead, greeting you with an even softer smile when he pulled away. "It'll be okay, I promise."

'Whatever happens happens,' his words rang through your head like an alarm you wanted so desperately to turn off. Your mind wandered back to your secret, and hoped that those words would apply once again whenever you told him.

The rest of the night went by surprisingly fast and smoothly, you and Steve loosening up a little over some Jack and Cokes and a round of line dancing that neither of you were sure how you'd gotten roped into. His announcement even went over well—considering all the excited shouts and whooping that rang throughout the bar in response—and Steve seemed to be at an all time high when he pulled you toward the staircase.

In fact, you were sure you'd never seen a smile as big as the one Steve was sporting as he picked you up bridal-style, carrying you up the stairs and into your shared apartment.

The two of you had originally planned on buying a house in a nearby neighborhood, but when things fell through, you both realized just how much you liked the idea of turning the upstairs area of the bar into an apartment. Flash forward two and a half years and now, the place was transformed into a cozy little one bedroom apartment, littered with Steve's various awards and many, many pairs of cowboy (and cowgirl) boots.

Your arms were wrapped tight around his neck, a gentle smile tugging at your own lips as he kicked the door shut with his foot. Seeing Steve so excited was almost enough to distract you from the impending news you had yet to deliver.

Steve set you down on the floor, his hands making their way to your hips while his mouth locked on yours. "Did you know I love you more than anyone has ever put into words?" he asked between kisses, one hand traveling from your hip to your ass. It had been so long since Steve had gotten tipsy, you'd almost forgotten how frisky alcohol could make him.

Guilt twisted into a tight knot in the pit of your stomach. Pulling away, you decided it was best to just rip off the band-aid. You couldn't hold back any longer, you felt like you'd explode if you did. "You can't say things like that when I'm about to tell you something that'll make you hate me forever."

His face softened as he stepped closer to you. A gentle kiss brushed over your forehead before his eyes greeted yours. "I doubt you could ever do that," he countered, his hands moving back to your waist.

Your eyes parted from his, looking down at his boots and wondering just how you of all people got lucky enough to marry the best man in the whole world. A deep sigh left your mouth before the words you'd been dreading followed. "I went to the gyno today."

"Oh, yeah, your yearly appointment was today. How'd that go?"

You forced your eyes to meet his, and the remorseful feeling in your stomach twisted and writhed even harder when you saw the soft honey color that had settled in them. After that, the words tumbled out so fast that even you couldn't believe he had that much of an influence on you. "She took out my IUD! There, I said it! Stop looking at me like that!"

A string of chuckles tumbled from his lips as he bent down, his mouth melding to yours again. You couldn't lie, you were definitely shell-shocked from this unexpected reaction.

"Don't you get it?" you all but screamed as your mouths parted. "She took it out! As in, she didn't replace it! Doesn't that make you the least bit angry with me for not asking first?"

Steve shook his head as the grin from earlier made its way back to his mouth. "No, it doesn't. It's your body, you can do whatever you so please with it. It does mean a lot though that you care about my opinion so much."

Guilt was overpowered by the biggest wave of love you'd ever felt for this man. "You do realize we have to be extra careful now, right? Like, no going without a condom, taking morning after pills, the whole nine yards of precaution."

The honey color that swirled in his irises quickly turned to a lustful black. "Who said?"

You felt like you were experiencing whiplash from the amount of different emotions you'd felt in the past five minutes. You couldn't lie, you weren't opposed to having kids, but you had been absolutely positive Steve didn't want them right now, so his words definitely took you by surprise.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, but not a second later, Steve kissed away the confused crease between them. "But-"

He shook his head, already knowing exactly what you were going to say. "I never wanted to wait. Sure, a lot has happened in the past few years so the timing wouldn't have been great, but not for one second did I not want to have kids with you."

Happy tears filled your eyes as you pulled him down for a long kiss, adoration flowing from the top of your head all the way down to the tips of your toes. His hands slipped into your back pockets as he deepened the kiss, his tongue all but forcing its way into your mouth.

You pulled him ever so close, your limbs entangling like they belonged to one another. His mouth moved away from yours and down to your neck, sucking on the pulse point and eliciting a moan. Steve chuckled, pulling you toward the bed but not once removing his lips from your body.

Somewhere along the way, he kicked off his boots before pushing you back on the bed. He tugged off your sneakers, tossing them toward the shoe rack, then making quick work of your jeans. "What do you say?" he asked, kissing you again, harder and needier than he had before. "Do you want that?"

"Please," you all but begged, your hands meeting his back, nails raking the skin beneath his shirt.

"Please… what?" he asked, tossing off the skin-tight tee shirt he'd been sporting. After seeing the way it hugged the muscles of his arms and the dips of his chest and stomach, you'd been desperate for him to take it off since the moment he put it on.

Your breathing sped up as you thought about your answer. "Please," you repeated, "wanna make you a daddy. A real daddy."

His eyes were completely lust-blown by now, his fingers drawing tantalizing circles on your thigh as he leaned down to meet your still-clothed core with a soft kiss. "I like the way you think, princess."

He made quick work of your panties, his lips immediately connecting to your clit. He hummed in pleasure, the vibration only pushing you closer to the edge. Over the years, Steve had found all the perfect ways to unravel you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you were cumming.

"Steve," you whined, your hands intertwining in his already messy hair. You guided him to where you needed him most, his tongue dipping inside you while his nose bumped against your clit. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer.

He parted from you with a low laugh, your eyes rolling in both frustration and want. "Can't help it," he said, kissing your pussy again, "Gotta make sure she's ready for me."

His tongue slipped back into your hole, your wetness surely soaking the stubble that covered his cheeks. Moans and whines tumbled from your mouth, one after the other, until you were on the brink of falling apart. Your veins burned with arousal, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of their sockets when his mouth moved up to your clit, replacing his tongue easily with two fingers.

Fingertips grazed your G-spot, and in an instant, you were coming undone, all but screaming his name as you came on his tongue.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers out before holding them up to your parted lips. "Suck," Steve instructed, dark eyes meeting your glassy ones. You didn't hesitate, swirling your tongue around the digits and taking in the taste of your essence.

You worked to control your breathing as his fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head, his eyes nearly popping out at the sight of your breasts and the way they all but spilled out of your bra. "Just think," he started, pulling one of them out of the cup and palming at it, his fingers twisting the bud and drawing out a mewl from your lips, "Gonna be so pretty and big." Steve was a huge fan of your boobs anyway, but you knew he was going to be utterly obsessed with how big they'd get if or when you got pregnant.

His lips wrapped around your nipple while he palmed at the neglected one. Your eyes rolled in desire, a small, "Fuck," falling from your lips.

Steve forced himself to remove his lips from you, knowing he'd stay there for hours if he didn't. He shoved his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, throwing them in the general direction of the bathroom. His cock sprung up, and you swore you'd never felt as carnal for him as you did at that moment.

"You ready?" he asked, being ever the gentleman. You nodded and in a second, he was pushing inside you. Groans and expletives tumbled from Steve's lips, his head falling forward as he slowly slid in. "Fuuuck," he sighed heavily, "I love you."

"Not as much- shit- as I love you," you exhaled, shifting your hips and chasing down the rest of his length. The crescent moons of your fingernails dug into his back, surely on the verge of making him bleed.

He slowly pulled out and pushed back in, beginning to create that perfect rhythm only he knew how to provide you with. "Yeah? Love me so much you're gonna- fuck- carry my baby around? Let everyone know who got you in that state?"

A soft whimper slipped from your tongue as you managed a nod, rutting your hips in an attempt to speed up Steve's motions.

"So needy," he teased, canting his hips faster, fast enough to catch you off guard. His cock brushed your sensitive spot, your back arching off the bed in response. "Just so ready for me to fill you up, huh?"

You whined, pulling him down with one hand while the other still scraped at his spine. Your mouths connected in a messy kiss, surely leaving your lips swollen when he pulled away. "Please," you begged again, "fill me up, daddy."

A guttural groan rolled off his tongue as his hips pistoned harder, his heavy balls slapping against you as he chased down his high. "Your wish is my command, sweetheart," he replied, his lips meeting the dip of your breasts. "Gonna get you all pretty and full, over and over again. Gonna remind you of the only man that can fill you like that."

Your pussy fluttered around him, your orgasm quickly approaching. "Fuck, Steve!" you exclaimed, surely loud enough for the people downstairs to hear. "I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me, baby," he said, somehow making the phrase sound encouraging yet filthy at the same time. "Cum all over daddy's cock, yeah?"

Whimpers and moans tumbled off your tongue as you fell apart underneath him, your hands grasping at his shoulders to steady yourself. Your toes curled, digging into his hips and pulling him even further inside you.

His hips rutted in a sloppy rhythm and you knew it wouldn't be long before he was cumming too. He sucked a harsh kiss on the dip of your neck, surely leaving a hickey in his wake. "God, you're gonna be so pretty. All knocked up with my babies. Showing everyone how willing you were for me to fill you up and fuck you right."

His name fell from your lips like a record stuck on a loop, a mantra you needed in order to survive. The overstimulation was too much and not enough all at once, your eyes crossing in pure pleasure as yet another orgasm built within you.

One of his hands gripped yours, lacing his large digits in between your smaller ones, his thumb rubbing soft lines along the back of your hand. Steve stopped mid-thrust, his previously dark eyes turning to gentle ones, and you swore you saw tears forming in them. He took a deep breath before leaning down to kiss you, a soft kiss so different from the rough, longing kisses from before. A smile pulled at his lips when he moved away, his eyes meeting yours.

"You sure about this? Last chance," he kidded, but you could tell there was some seriousness hidden behind his playful tone.

You nodded before kissing him again, your opposite hand slipping into his hair again and giving it a gentle tug. "I'm ready," you reassured him, now nearly on the brink of tears yourself. "Been ready since the day I laid eyes on you, cowboy."

He pushed back in, slowly building back up his pace and working both of you back to the brink of orgasm. His lips parted into an open 'O' as he thrusted one last time, emptying all that he had inside you as you climaxed for a third time.

It was by no means the first time you'd gone without a condom, but something about this time was different. Maybe it was knowing that you no longer had an IUD, maybe it was the risk of it sticking this time. Whatever it was, it had you feeling a closeness to Steve that you weren't sure you'd ever felt before.

He flipped the two of you over, allowing you to fall limp on top of him. Your chests heaved in lousy attempts to calm your breathing, the only noise filling the air being that of your exhales. His palm abandoned yours, moving up to your back and sliding soft lines up and down your spine. Parted lips greeted your scalp with a gentle kiss, before they moved down to your forehead, finally stopping at your own lips as he turned your face towards his.

"Stevie?" you said, looking up at him through previously mascara-coated lashes, the makeup surely having been sweated off by now.

"Yeah?" he answered, grazing another peck across your forehead.

You hated to ruin the moment but… "I need to pee."

A goofy grin formed on his face as he rolled you back over, gripping his hands around your thighs and keeping you wrapped around him. His cock was still buried inside you, still pressed against your sweet spot, still finding a way to make you moan despite barely having moved. "Sorry, can't do that."

Your head fell back against the mattress, a frustrated growl falling your lips. Sure, you weren't really all that frustrated—you could eat, sleep, and breathe with Steve's dick buried inside you and it still wouldn't be enough—but you really did need to pee, and you knew this was the only way you'd get him to pull out. "I'm gonna piss all over you and the bed if you don't let me move."

A sly smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Kinky," he chuckled, "I like that in a woman."

You couldn't help the snicker that he elicited out of you. Still, you shook your head in protest. "Please? I really do need to pee."

"Gotta make sure it sticks," he countered, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible.

This time, a smirk pulled at your lips. "I doubt it won't stick, considering how hard you just fucked me," you argued. "But I'll tell you what. If you let me go pee, you can try again," you paused, kissing his neck, "and again," a kiss on his earlobe, "and again," a final kiss on those plump, pink lips you loved so much, "until it finally does stick. How 'bout that?"

He slowly pulled out, low mewls exiting both of your mouths in sync. Steve moved just enough for you to stand up, his palm slapping your ass playfully as you began to walk away. "You wanna know something?"

"What's that?" you asked, flicking on the bathroom light.

He followed you into the bathroom, his eyes turning dark once again. "I like the way you think, cowgirl."

So... surprise??

I really did mean to post this however many months ago when I got the request. But I guess I was just never really happy with this fic and I wanted to re-write it or just trash the idea and start over but nothing really ever felt right. So I'm sticking with the original and hoping you guys enjoy! I have so much more to come for this cowboy and his girl but for now, this is where they are.

To the anon who requested this, I hope you're still around. Sorry I kept you waiting for so long. I hope it was somewhat worth the wait ❤️

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

#imagine #imagines #blurb #blurbs #one shot #one shots #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington one shots #steve harrington smut #cowboy!steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things one shot #stranger things one shots #stranger things smut #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #hornyhornyhimbos filthy fridays #hornyhornyhimbos

[kaufmann-6]

Today is Jason Grace’s birthday!! Our favorite blond superman, who we pretend didn’t die and is happy at his boarding school living a normal life for the first time, making friends and drawing temples for the camps, portraying his role as Pontifex Maximus.

Here are some post-TOA headcanons! Alive!Jason edition.

He and Annabeth have Iris calls every week to talk about his projects and she gives him artechure tips. They had a weird start but turns out they’re good friends!

Is Percy jealous of Annabeth being close to Jason now? Kinda, but he makes up for it Iris Messaging Jason all the time to prove he’s a better friend to Jason than Annabeth lol he’s competitive, especially with his girlfriend involved.

After a five minute scolding from Jason and the disappointed glare #7, Leo gets a big bear hug and him and Jason spend the following night watching a movie and throwing popcorn at each other. After that Jason starts Iris Messaging Leo once in a while. They don’t talk much in these calls, they like to hang while each does their thing. Jason draws and Leo builds stuff. It’s the nice kind of silence.

Piper isn’t the one who calls the most, but when she does, Jason and her talk for hours. He tells her about his drawing and she tells him about her dad and Shel. Jason is happy for her. They’re not as close as before, but they’re getting there and are happy.

Nico is definitely the one Jason sees more. He shadow travels to Jason’s room all the time. Sometimes Jason gets back from lacrosse practice and finds Nico sleeping in his bed. He’s so happy Nico trusts him now and they are friends! They play board games together and Nico annoys Jason into dropping his homework and sneak out to the nearest McDonalds.

Hazel surprisingly Iris Massages Jason quite frequently. She tells Jason stories from when they met for the first time and he helped her feel welcome at the fifth cohort. Jason still doesn’t have all of his memories, but they get closer each time they talk.

At first, Frank and Jason don’t talk much, but one day Jason called Hazel and she was busy with praetor duties, so Frank and Jason ended up talking about nonsense for an hour. After that, they call more and actually become good friends.

When it’s finally summer they all reunite at camp half-blood and spend week committing shenanigans after shenanigans. They don’t have a prophecy above their heads and for the first time, they can be actual teens and have fun. Chiron is tired and Mr D is secretly proud.

Jason is so happy to have this weird big family, he loves them.

Also, Thalia and Rayna showed up with the hunters and they had the biggest capture the flag game ever. The other cabins stepped aside to let the seven + Nico play against the hunters and placed bets on who would win, who was gonna be made a hostage first and who would win in a fight, Jason or Thalia? Clarisse and Will became rich among them all.

When it’s Jason’s 18th birthday, they throw a huge birthday party, making up for the fact that he was in a coma after Caligula tried to kill him on his 17th one, and also for his 16th birthday, that was the day Annabeth and Percy fell in Tartarus.

Jason is so glad that he has all this people around him. That is the best of all birthdays.

#jason grace #jason grace’s birthday #annabeth chase #percy jackson #leo valdez #piper mclean #nico di angelo #hazel levesque #frank zhang #thalia grace #reyna ramirez arellano #pjo hoo #toa au #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #this boy deserved better than what rick did to him #percabeth

[reasonsforhope]

Do you have a tag specifically for stuff about the climate crisis/what is being done/can be done to help stop or reverse its effects?

Basically just read a post that was "I'm not trying to be alarmist but- *spends seven paragraphs about how climate change is inevitable, we will never possibly recover from it, it's not global warming anymore its global "boiling", none of the damage can ever be undone and we're all going to be dead in the next five generations*" and I'm trying.. very hard not to spiral from it.

Sorry for bothering you 🙏

The "climate crisis" "climate change" and "climate hope" tags should do the trick.

Of those, "climate change" is the one that has the most content by far, just because the others are more narrow and "climate hope" is a much more recent term, so to speak, because I keep forgetting about it lol

I don't post anything that's not good news, so you can go through the general "climate change" tag without fear

Also, while I'm at it, that person is wrong. For a lot of reasons, including that we're actively fixing a lot of damage to ecosystems literally right now. And also also, GLOBAL WARMING WILL BE AT LEAST SOMEWHAT REVERSIBLE

Why? Well, the rise in average global temperatures is caused by excess carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. As we keep fixing the planet, restoring ecosystems, and stop burning fossil fuels, nature will siphon more and more of the carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere.

And if there's less carbon dioxide (and other greenhouse gasses) in the atmosphere, then more heat can once again escape the planet and radiate out into space

Will this be easy? Probably not! This planet's natural systems are incomprehensibly complicated - but that also means there are solutions out there that we haven't even discovered. There are some additional problems to overcome, like the fact that the oceans will be surfacing excess heat for a few decades after we stop CO2 emissions, and also "natural gas" and "carbon capture" are fake solutions/oil company traps.

But we can do it. I so, so, so sincerely believe that.

One term that I think we'll be seeing more and more of in the coming years is "Drawdown": "Climate drawdown refers to the future point in time when levels of greenhouse gas concentrations in the atmosphere stop climbing and start to steadily decline.[1] Drawdown is a milestone in reversing climate change and eventually reducing global average temperatures." (from wikipedia)

We can achieve drawdown. Will life in the future look very different? Yes, in both good and bad ways.

Climate change is the earth's "feedback" to humanity: "Fix your shit or die."

People are, in general, really, really, really committed to finding ways not to die.

I genuinely believe the rest of us can overcome the few dozen billionaires trying to screw the rest of us over. Money is powerful, but the remaining 7 billion plus people on this planet are more so. And the fortunes of billlionaires are made off the backs of the rest of us - which means we can make those fortunes run dry.

Sources for this answer (warning, these talk about the negative side of things a lot too, they're not the uplifting reads themselves. that's next): x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x

Other sources to read for hope: FutureCrunch, Project Drawdown and Project Regeneration good news websites in general such as Positive News and Goodgoodgood, which I think are the best content fits for what you're looking for. Make sure to check out Goodgoodgood's roundups specifically. And know that there are way, way more good news stories - and way bigger ones, too - than I've had time to post about lately, because work has been really hectic

#Anonymous #ask #me #climate change #climate crisis #climate hope #also by the way “it's not global warming it's global boiling” is imo a wildly unhelpful “tagline” #not just alarmism but literally “this cannot be accurate” alarmism #because real global boiling would be if that planet reached an average temperature of 100 degrees celsius #aka 212 degrees farenheit #which is LITERALLY NOT GOING TO HAPPEN THANKS #climate anxiety #environmentalism #anthropocene #hope posting #hopepunk #drawdown #carbon sequestration #ecosystem restoration #good news #hope

[fiddleabout]

chef au sneak peak part deux

“One of the guests,” he says.  “She asked to see you, said that she knows you.”

Beatrice blinks at him owlishly.  “Pardon?”

Ashish shrugs, looking stricken.  “The 10:30 at table seven,” he says, as if that explains anything.  

“Do you have a name?”  Beatrice fights the urge to pinch at the bridge of her nose to ward off the way frustration is building in her as much as confusion is.  Ava takes her frustration in stride these days, had done so even before they became-- whatever they are now, heated and physical and entwined in each other’s lives to a truly excessive degree that Beatrice cannot find it in herself to worry about-- but half of the staff crumple in the face of it.

“Oh,” Ashish says, suddenly fumbling for his notepad.  Beatrice swallows the sigh she wants to let out, because there’s no possible way that he actually wrote the name on a reservation down on his notepad.  “Um--”

“Don’t worry about it,” Beatrice says, as kindly as she can after watching him flip through the pad frantically.  “I’ll take a look.  Thank you.”

Ashish shoves the notepad back into his apron pocket, squeaks out something shrill and unintelligible, and immediately flees the vicinity.  Beatrice watches him go, letting out a heavy sigh.

“What was that?” Chanel appears at her elbow, a decanted bottle of wine in one hand and a chef’s knife in the other, one eyebrow flicked upwards.  

“I have no idea.”  Beatrice sighs again.  “He said table seven knows me.”

Chanel’s eyebrow flicks up higher.  “Expecting someone?”

She doesn’t wait for Beatrice to answer, shoving the wine into Beatrice’s hand and blindly handing the knife to Ava, who barely blinks at the interruption as she tastes one of the sauces and then yells for the saucier.  Beatrice watches, frozen, as Chanel weaves her way through the kitchen and pokes her head out the door into the main restaurant for a long moment and then turns back to face her.

“Fun-sized bag of springs, tall smokeshow with spectacular cheekbones?”

“You’re one to talk,” Michelle says as she bustles past Chanel, flicking the towel over her shoulder towards Chanel’s cheekbones on her way over to Ava.  

Camila and Lilith.  Lilith is here, at their restaurant, with her pastry chef, on a Thursday when her own is surely booked solid.  She left her own restaurant to come here.  

“Shit,” Beatrice mutters.  She tries to swallow the inexplicable panic rising in her chest-- Lilith is her best friend, there’s no reason she should be panicking at seeing her-- and glances at the clock.  It’s half past eleven and the restaurant is still almost completely full, an uncharacteristically busy Wednesday; this is the first break Beatrice has had since the dinner rush started.  

“You good?” Ava appears at Beatrice’s elbow, one eyebrow raised and a hand holding out a spoon towards Beatrice’s mouth.  “Here, taste this.”

Beatrice takes the spoon blindly.  It’s muhammara, delicious and one of her favorites but also very much not on the menu for the night, and the discomfort in her chest pivots immediately.

“Why--”

“It’s your favorite, and we had way too many walnuts.”  Ava shrugs, smiles, shoves the bowl of muhammara and piece of pita into Beatrice’s hands.  “Also, you didn’t eat before the dinner rush because we--”

“Thank you,” Beatrice hurries out, cutting Ava off before she can go into lurid detail about how they’d both forgotten to eat before it got busy because they were otherwise occupied by Ava bending Beatrice over her desk in her tiny office.  “But--”

“It took like five minutes,” Ava says with another shrug, intentionally casual in spite of the faint flush dusting over her cheeks and the fact that they both know that she’s lying.  

The twist of panic in Beatrice’s chest vanishes abruptly, because Ava made her muhammara in the middle of a busy night just so she would eat.  She wants to kiss her, wants to drag her back into her office and pick up where they left off when they were busy skipping the lull before the dinner rush; instead, all she can do is clutch the food Ava offered her and stare at her with wonder like she so often does, irrevocably and overwhelmingly charmed.

“Thank you,” Beatrice says softly.

“If you two are quite done.”  Chanel’s reclaimed her knife from where she’d handed it off to Ava and points at Ava and then Beatrice with it.  “Someone is asking for Beatrice outside.”

“What?” Ava’s eyebrows crease.

“Lilith is here,” Beatrice sighs out.  She busies herself with swiping a corner of the pita through the muhammara and shoving it into her mouth, as much to buy time as to deal with the fact that she’s realized suddenly that she is, in fact, starving. 

“Lilith?”  Ava says, straightening up as her eyes widen.

“Wait,” Chanel says.  “Do you mean Lilith as in the executive chef at Per Se?”

“I mean Lilith, Beatrice’s best friend,” Ava says, an almost indecipherable tinge of panic in her voice.

“Who is also the chef at Per Se, yes,” Beatrice says heavily.  

“Well, shit,” Chanel says.  She points at Beatrice with the knife again.  Six months ago, it would have irritated Beatrice, the casual way Chanel is pointing an incredibly sharp knife at her; now, she’s used to it, the way that Ava and Chanel both are prone to using knives as laser pointers.  “Is she here to shoot Ava?”

“Hey!”

“Potentially,” Beatrice says, sighing.  They haven’t told Chanel, not really, but she’s smart and obnoxiously perceptive, so it’s hardly surprising that she immediately assumes that Beatrice’s best friend is here to threaten her girlfriend with an early exit and a shallow grave.  

“Hey!” Ava says again.  “I could hold my own, you never know.”

“You can’t,” Beatrice says in unison with Chanel.  Ava glares at her, her fake indignation so endearing that Beatrice nearly gives up on trying to be professional when they’re in front of the staff, nearly kisses her.  Instead, she takes another bite of the muhammara, inelegant and oversized, before handing it back to Ava so she can dig her phone out of her pocket to text Lilith.

I can’t leave right now.  We’re swamped.  

A response pops up immediately.  Chickenshit, which means Lilith is in a good mood.  I can wait until you close up for the night.  And then: Don’t worry, we’ll tip your tiny little zoomer waiter heavy.

#posting this bc i made a deal (a bribe) #with the devil (tumblr user piratekane) #and im holding up my end of the bargain #writing tag #warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #no i do not know when the chapter will be done please do not ask

[blackberrysummerblog]

Happy Easter to all of you who celebrate! After a rotten Friday at the animal shelter where I work, I got a very pleasant surprise yesterday when a pregnant stray who came in gave birth to five live and healthy kittens! I might share some pics later on :) In the meantime, thank you @forabeatofadrum and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for the tags this morning, as well as everyone else who’s continued to tag me on other days. I’ve been pretty slow writing lately, but I do have some shares this week!

First, a bit of kid!Baz POV from my COBB:

In the afternoons, I do my homework as soon as we get home and sometimes call my father. He never has much to say. I’ll offer to help Dev with his work and then water the herbs in the conservatory, reminding myself of the names and uses of each one. Dogtooth violet to stop gossip, bay leaves for wish making and prophetic dreams. Tarragon for confidence, St. John’s Wort to stave off colds and fevers. Basil can drive off dark spirits. I rub the leaves between my fingers, remembering Ebb’s lessons as the fresh summer scent breaks across my skin. “Basil can dispel confusion, boys. It turns back fear and weakness, and is used in exorcisms. Carry it with you to protect yourselves from danger, or spread it on the ground to keep away evil. It’s also sometimes used to bring lovers together.” Dev had elbowed me and sniggered, because of course we both associate the herb with my name. I don’t see how any of it relates to me, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s just what I’m called.

And the next is from a sequel I suddenly started writing to Field Trip of Dreams (god I still hate that that’s the title I gave it). I wouldn’t say it’s necessary to read the first fic, although it gives context for the fact that Baz and Simon are dating in eighth year, and everyone but the Mage knows it. It’s a longish share, but I’m enjoying writing so have it:

“Isolation Cabin?” Basilton is repeating in disbelief. His eyes narrow. “But Sir, whatever will we do if we get to talking and discover we were separated at birth?”

Simon understandably pales, but Davy merely snorts and waves a dismissive hand. “Unlikely, Mr. Pitch. Now, both of you grab your rucksacks while I conjure a bird to lead you to the cabin. It’s…out of the way.”

The rest of the students are in fits, but of course Davy doesn’t notice. He pays attention to nothing and nobody when he thinks he’s in the right. Simon has shouldered his own pack and is staring into the middle distance, refusing to look at anyone. Of course, Natasha Pitch’s son has to get in one last dig: “What’s next, a get-along shirt?”

Basilton’s unimpressed expression is fooling no one—I know blessed well that he’d only love that. “Davy,” I try one last time. “This weekend is supposed to be providing these students with a chance to learn how to get along as a community of mages. Splitting two of them off will deprive them of the chance—”

“Miss Possibelf.” I suppose it’s amusing that after all these years Davy doesn’t dare use my first name. “I know what I’m doing. Boys this age need a firm hand—” How does he not hear the sniggering going on behind him? “—and I’ve had just about enough.” After seven years. Seven years, and he’s had enough? Davy finally acknowledges me enough to turn and lower his voice. “Quite frankly, one of them has nothing to learn about survival, while the other doesn’t need to.” This last part is said in a hushed whisper, even though from the way Basilton’s eyebrow lifts, I’m certain he heard it.

I share his disdain for the sentiment, however, I’m not particularly concerned about his chances—here, or anywhere else. “Fine,” I snap, throwing my hands up. It’s not as though this trip isn’t always an annual excuse for all kinds of unsanctioned…exploration. Simon and Basilton aren’t likely to get up to anything they haven’t already, and I have bigger fish to fry given the amount of alcohol students traditionally smuggle on this fool’s exercise. David Cadwallader can be as blind as he likes, but some of us are left nursing the hangovers.

No pressure holiday tags: @rimeswithpurple, @artsyunderstudy, @cutestkilla, @c0nsumemy5oul, @tender-ministrations, @nausikaaa, @thewholelemon, @orange-peony, @youarenevertooold, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @letraspal, @bookish-bogwitch, @nightimedreamersghost, @aristocratic-otter, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @hushed-chorus, @prettygoododds, @supercutedinosaurs, @shutup-andletme-go, @aceumbrellaheroes, @asocialpessimist, @wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @raenestee , @larkral, @facewithoutheart, @papierhaikuphoto, @cows4247, @stitchy-queerista, @carry-on-big-bang, @imagineacoolusername, @ileadacharmedlife, @confused-bi-queer, @j-nipper-95, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @iamamythologicalcreature, @bazzybelle, @valeffelees

#cobb 2024 #carry on big bang #snowbaz #WIP #six sentence sunday #the simon snow series #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #Baz pitch #small!baz does his chores and homework #small!dev…does not #watford eighth year #Simon and Baz are having a stupid fight #or is it stupid? #😇 #in any event the mage’s solution is definitely stupid

[misshoneyimhome]

The friends to lovers trope will always be my favorite, especially with Willy and you do it SO WELL!!

I need more jealous Will, like you guys are super close and have some fun on the side, always together and you’re at his condo 5 nights a week…you’re basically together but you’re not? That absolute shit situation and he’s made it clear that after his on and off 5 year relationship he wants to have fun, whereas you slowly realize with him that you are ready for stability and a relationship…and because you know Will doesn’t want that you start dating! But he’s your situationship, which makes the bff part harder so you keep the dates from him until he’s out to dinner with the Swedes and SEES YOU LEAVE WITH ANOTHER MAN! And he’s fucking destroyed, like a madman he’s ready to go and grab you but the boys talk him down as you’re in fact not his…but that doesn’t stop him from going by your place to see if you’re alone later and when he sees you are alone he makes it clear you won’t be taking anyone but him home…but you fight back that you don’t know who he’s sleeping with beside you while he’s on the road and he makes his feelings clear through action over words🥵 (The words can come in the morning😅)

Oh thanks, darling! I’m glad to hear that you enjoy my writing 😊 And Jealous!Willy is definitely a part of my Roman Empire, so of course I'll do my best to meet your needs -  so another friends-to-lovers story - let's dive in! 💛

Btw, this turned out a bit dirtier than initially intended 🙈

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Warnings; 18+ mild smut; a bit of fingering; protected & unprotected sex (p in v);

Word count: 3.5K

Complicated ⚡️🖋️

"Oh baby, I'm about to come," William moaned, thrusting deeply into your deep core, granting you three intense orgasms before reaching his own peak.

"Yes, Willy, come for me," you gasped, your body quivering and drenched in sweat as William let out a deep grunt and released within the condom.

"Shit, how do we always nail this?" he chuckled, trying to catch his breath after your passionate round of sex.

"I don't know, perhaps we're just perfectly matched," you smiled, as he nestled beside you.

William turned to you, offering a curious look. "Maybe," he gently responded, and you both relaxed, lulled by the sound of your breathing, snuggling before drifting off to sleep.

The evening with William had been a rather typical one. He returned from training to his condo, where you welcomed him with takeout for dinner. And following some cuddling on the sofa, things heated up, leading to an intense session in his bedroom.

Yet, as morning arrived, and you both showered and dressed for the day, leaving his apartment, you felt a slight emptiness and perhaps a hint of disappointment. However, you couldn't quite pinpoint the reason behind these emotions.

**

You and William were very good friend.

Ok, perhaps, you and William shared a bond that went beyond mere friendship.

He was that one person you practically spent every day with, often at his place - let's say about five days out of seven in a week. He was your go-to person, whether you had a rough day to unload or exciting news to share. Amid a streak of terrible dates, he was the one (besides your girlfriends) who provided solace. And he wasn't just a great friend; he was also someone you shared a strong physical connection with.

Right from the start when you first met through mutual friends, there was an undeniable connection between you both.

Things began innocently enough, developing through friendly interactions, but gradually it snowballed into something more. Your communication increased steadily through platforms like Instagram and Snapchat, and you found yourselves engrossed in conversations after hockey games and during William's off days.

You became a fixture at private team events and dinners, where William actively sought your company even among his teammates. And after every home game, you'd wait for him outside the locker room, whether to celebrate a great win or offer comfort after a tough loss.

Your conversations were always engaging, never dull or awkward. And as you spent more time together, you gradually opened up, sharing deeper parts of yourselves - secrets, thoughts, and intimate details that nobody else knew.

One particular night, after dinner following William's training, you stayed over to watch a movie at his place and ended up accidentally falling asleep in his arms, wrapped in a blanket and embraced by his comforting warmth.

William didn't mind, letting you sleep on the sofa, and since neither of you found it odd, staying over at his place became a regular occurrence. Sometimes, you'd even make him breakfast before his game days, which he truly appreciated.

Then, there was that one evening after a particularly rough match. You had stayed over to watch it on TV, and upon his return, William found you wearing his jersey. Despite his weariness from the game, his exhaustion seemed to vanish a bit when he noticed your bare legs below with his name and number, which had driven his mind wild.

Feeling frustrated about the match's outcome, he yearned to be with a woman, and the sight of your inviting lips intrigued him. With a hint of nervousness, he made a move, unsure of how you'd react. But strangely, neither of you felt discomfort about it.

From the moment your lips met in a deep, exploratory kiss, allowing your tongues to intertwine and your hands to discover every contour of each other's bodies, it felt undeniably right.

The first time it happened was a lengthy make-out session in his bed, but it wasn't until the following home match, celebrating the Leafs' victory, that things intensified. In sheer excitement, William pulled you into a fervent, passionate kiss, and as soon as you entered his place, he led you eagerly to his bedroom, a suggestion you were more than willing to embrace.

To you, every part of William's body was flawless. His muscular thighs and robust arms complemented his well-toned torso perfectly. His lips worked like magic on yours, exploring every inch of your skin with an electrifying touch that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving your mind blissfully foggy.

For William, witnessing the effect he had on you was immensely gratifying. He cherished every aspect of your being, from your curvy figure to your captivating eyes and enchanting smile.

Your personality had entranced him from the very beginning, and the sound of your laughter never failed to quicken his heartbeat. On chaotic days, you were his anchor; in moments of distress, his solace. Besides his brother Alex and best friend Sandy, you were the person he turned to, someone he felt comfortable sharing everything with.

The connection between you and William was profound, even though it wasn't particularly romantic in the conventional sense, yet emotions he hadn't experienced with anyone else before.

Your closeness had even deterred some of his casual flings. While it was clear to everyone that the two of you weren't officially dating, your bond seemed to carry something deeper, at least from an outsider's perspective.

However, it was evident that William wasn't seeking a relationship, of that you were certain. He was prioritizing his career, especially with a crucial year ahead. And as his friend, you pledged to stand by him and offer unwavering support.

** 

Despite the deep affection you held for William, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing in your life. You yearned for more than a casual arrangement - a person to share more than occasional sex and profound conversations with. Someone you didn't have to leave in the morning, only to return to when there was nothing else to occupy your time.

You longed for a romantic relationship.

In an ideal scenario, William would have been the perfect fit. However, the only problem was that William wasn't seeking a serious commitment. He relished his carefree lifestyle and had no intentions of altering it.

You, on the other hand, felt ready for something more stable - a committed relationship.

After several discussions with your closest girlfriends, you made the decision to venture into the dating scene, open to exploring if someone intriguing came along.

And indeed, there were a couple of guys who caught your interest - handsome, kind, and easy to talk to, just the way you preferred. However, you couldn't shake off a lingering sense of guilt. It seemed irrational since you and William were simply friends (with benefits), yet you couldn't deny the slight anxiety about how he might react to you dating. So to play it safe, you chose not to disclose anything to him.

Avoiding any risk to your situationship, you made up various excuses to explain why you couldn't spend time with him or why you weren't at home.

And for tonight's home game, you sought help from the other girlfriends of the team.

"I don't get it, y/n," Stephanie queried. "Why not just tell Willy why you're leaving early?"

"Because I'm worried it might make things awkward," you tried to explain to your friend during the second intermission.

"That's what happens when you sleep with your best friend," Arynne teased, flashing a knowing smile. ” Just saying it complicates things.”

"Well, that ship has sailed," you responded, smiling knowingly at them.

"Y/n/n, if Willy's truly your best friend, he'd understand," Tessa chimed in, offering her gentle reassurance.

As much as you hoped for William to understand your need to date, doubts lingered about whether he would truly grasp your decision.

"I know, and I will - I promise! But for tonight, can you please cover for me?" you pleaded, and the girls nodded in agreement just before the third period was about to begin.

As the girls returned to their seats, you discreetly headed towards the exit to meet up with your date.

Tim was genuinely one of the sweetest guys you'd encountered, as his kind-hearted nature quickly intrigued you. He was the third person you'd been dating lately; the previous two fell short of expectations. However, Tim seemed a bit different.

And tonight, he took you out to a charming spot in midtown, knowing you'd appreciate its cosy and tranquil atmosphere. You both engaged in lengthy conversations, sharing amusing stories while relishing your favourite course: sushi. And deep in conversation, you didn't immediately notice a group of friends entering the restaurant and settling at a table nearby. 

It was William and some other members of the team, opting for a late-night post-game meal. Since you had left the match early, William thought it would be a good idea to enjoy some food with his teammates, including his fellow Swedes.

However, it would be an understatement to say that he was taken aback when he first caught sight of your radiant smile and the faint sound of your infectious laughter. Yet, here you were along with someone else - someone unfamiliar to him, sitting rather close to you.

William felt a pang within him as he observed you from a distance, noticing how you leaned into this man, your hand gently touching his. There was a burning sensation in his chest as he watched another person elicit laughter from you, the kind he was used to sharing with you. And a lump formed in his throat as he witnessed the man casually wrapping his hand around your shoulder.

"Hey man, you okay?" Timothy asked softly, noticing William's intense gaze directed towards you.

"Hmm... yeah, I'm fine," William replied, however his eyes still fixed on you.

"Willy, dude, you're staring!" Calle interjected, noticing how William's grip tightened on his chopsticks.

"She's seeing someone..." he murmured quietly, mostly to himself.

"So?" John tentatively chimed in.

"She hasn't mentioned it to me..." William whispered again, clasping the chopsticks tightly between his hands.

"Does she need to?" Calle chuckled. "I mean, you're not in a relationship with her..."

William was aware that Calle's words held truth, but they seemed to pass through one ear and out the other. He could feel his body trembling as he watched you having a great time on this date. His palms grew sweaty, his heart raced, and a sudden heat engulfed the entire room.

As you rose from your seat, Tim offered to help with your coat. You both then headed towards the exit, his hand lightly resting on your lower back, and it drove William completely out of character. Never before had he experienced such a searing sensation in his chest. He felt an overwhelming urge to leap from his seat, push the other guy away, and take hold of your hand. He snapped his chopsticks into two pieces. s

"Easy, Willy. You're practically oozing with jealousy," Lagesson attempted to soothe his friend and teammate, but his efforts were futile. William shifted in his seat, ready to rise, but Calle swiftly grabbed his hand, restraining him.

"Control yourself, Willy," he urged. "You and y/n are just friends. She has every right to date whoever she wants... you have no right to disrupt what appears to be a good evening for her."

Struggling to regulate his breaths, William redirected his gaze away from your departure through the doors, turning to his friends instead.

"I know... It's just..."

"Just what?" John interjected. "You have feelings for her; then tell her. Otherwise, leave her be, man. Let her find happiness."

His teammates' words seemed to strike a chord within him, compelling him to try and let it go, attempting to immerse himself in his meal. However, it was evident to everyone that the situation had never left William's mind.

The sight of you laughing and enjoying yourself with someone else had etched itself into William's mind, the sting lingering deep within his chest as the night wore on.

"Hey, don't do anything stupid," Calle cautioned William as they exited the restaurant.

"I won't," William assured, but his Swedish friend knew him all too well. Realising the fact that persuading William otherwise was useless, he simply walked away, heading home. William was known for his determination once he set his mind on something - a trait that was both his strength and a weakness.

With the other Swedes gone and William initially heading home, he suddenly changed his course, and instead, he drove to your place rather than going to his own. He hadn't exactly planned anything; he just needed to see you. To ascertain whether you were alone or with the guy you had been on a date with. And if you weren't alone, well, he'd figure it out when he arrived.

Parking his car in front of your apartment building, he made his way to the front door.

You heard the buzzer resonating through the apartment, assuming it might be Tim, who had perhaps forgotten something after leaving you at the front door just a while ago. Consequently, you instinctively buzzed the door open.

However, when you opened the door to your flat, it wasn't Tim standing in the hallway.

"Willy?" you gasped softly, taken aback to see your best friend. "What are you doing here?"

The atmosphere felt tense, his expression devoid of any amusement.

"Are you alone?"

His voice, usually familiar and light, was deep and husky, an unusual tone for him.

"Yes," you replied softly, nodding lightly. Initially frozen in place, you attempted to break the building tension. "Do you want to come in?"

William didn't respond; he simply moved forward, entering your home.

It all felt rather strange. You sensed something was amiss with him, yet you couldn't quite comprehend what it might be. The team had won tonight's match, and there had been no news about William facing penalties or getting into a fight.

"Willy, are you alright?" you asked timidly after locking the door behind you. You felt his body shift to a more dominating stance as he stood before you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was firm, holding an unexpected edge to it.

"Tell you what?"

"That you were dating someone," his voice rose a notch.

"How did you?" 

"At the restaurant! I saw you with him..."

Oh, so he knew. He had seen you with Tim. Out of all the sushi spots in Toronto, you had to end up at the same place.

"So what? Why do you even care who I go out with?"

You felt frustration mounting within you. How dare he question your choices? It wasn't his place to raise his voice at you.

"Well, I don't! I just don't understand why you didn't tell me!"

"Because I was afraid, you'd react exactly like this, Willy," your voice matched his intensity.

The argument escalated, both of you shouting, the room pulsating with the heat of anger and the growing tension between you becoming fierce and cutting. Sharp words were exchanged, volleying between you in a battle of emotions.

"Of course, I react like this! How else should I react, huh? I sleep with you, spend nearly every day with you, and suddenly I'm just nothing to you while you're out making out with new guys every night!"

"Oh, so that's what you think! Yes, we sleep together, but it's not like I know to all the details about every bimbo you bring into your hotel room when you're on the road! For all I know you could be sticking your dick into every possible free whole before you come home and then have your way with me."

The air crackled with tension as accusations flew back and forth between you both.

"That's not how it is, and you know it! I don't sleep around while we're away - I know I have you waiting for me when I get back."

"Well, maybe not anymore. Feel free to be with anyone you want, Willy. I don't want to burden you," you retorted, tears welling up as you faced the man who would typically be your source of comfort. Instead, you found yourselves in a heated exchange, accusing each other of inappropriate behaviour.

William couldn't handle it. Your words stung him, feeling like he was the one who had been wronged. But instead of articulating his rage, he took aggressive steps toward you, causing you to step back until your back met the wall.

William, significantly larger and stronger than you, used his physical advantage to draw you in for a forceful kiss. However, you promptly broke away, responding to your anger by slapping him across the face. His audacity to come here into your home, raise his voice, accuse you, and then forcefully approach you was unacceptable.

Yet your slap only seemed to inflame William further. So, he pressed his lips against yours once more, gripping your head tightly, warning you not to resist.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to push against his chest. But despite this, a part of you wrestled with the desire to succumb to his touch, acknowledging the hold he had had over you for a considerable time.

Gradually, you began to relent, your mouths still locked in fervent exchange. William's hands released your face, trailing down to your hips and below your bum. With a gentle yet firm touch, he slid his hands beneath and effortlessly lifted you, earning you to wrap your thighs around his hips. Your arms wound around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom.

It was a chaotic and messy situation yet pulsating with intense lust and passion.

You practically tore each other's clothes off, and William guided you to lie on your back on the bed.

His lips trailed down to your neck, and involuntarily, you pressed against him, craving more skin-to-skin contact, offering him better access. 

His name escaped your lips softly as he licked and lightly nibbled on your skin, his hands exploring every reachable inch. Some attention was given to your breasts before his hands ventured between your bodies, and he gently slid his fingers into your core, causing you to gasp.

He was familiar with your body, knowing he needed to prepare you a bit with his fingers before entering you with his pulsating member.

The intimacy was intense. Positioned in missionary style, William entered you, his throbbing cock finding warmth within you, as he delicately stroked your inner walls, moving in and out.

Your sweaty bodies remained in close contact, mouths connecting and parting as moans escaped your lips. Sensing your walls tightening around him, William's hand found its way back to your core, gently rubbing your clit.

"Willy," you breathed out, feeling the rush of an impending orgasm.

"Let go for me, baby," he moaned into the curve of your neck, and so you did. Arching your back beneath him, you surrendered to the overwhelming intensity of pleasure coursing through your body.

As your walls tightened around William's cock, he soon followed suit and reached his climax, releasing his cum into your warm embrace, filling you in a way he hadn't before.

Heavy breaths echoed in the room as both of you panted, trying to regain control. No words were exchanged as William gently withdrew and settled beside you. And silently, you headed to the bathroom before returning to slip under the sheets with him, and together, you drifted off into sleep.

**

Morning arrived, and you woke up still entwined in William's arms. The lingering rage from yesterday's argument remained within you, yet a sense of relief washed over you, understanding this was William's way of expressing himself.

He had been jealous but struggled to articulate it.

More tears trickled down your cheeks as you relaxed in his embrace, nestled in his comforting, expansive form. Despite your reservations, it felt undeniably right.

Your emotions for William ran deep, and you couldn't deny it. Last night's disagreement had hurt you, reinforcing the fact that losing him was something you never wanted.

And as your body shifted slightly, William gradually stirred, hearing your quiet sniffles. Turning to you, his heart sank as he remembered the words, he had said the night before. Regret flooded him for much of it.

It was never his intention to cause you such pain. He cared deeply for you, and witnessing your sadness hurt him more than he’d ever thought it would – and it was all because of him.

With tenderness, he used his thumb to wipe away a few tears, locking eyes with yours.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, both of you coming to lay on your sides, facing each other.

"Me too," you softly replied.

A brief silence lingered as you both sought solace in each other's presence. And eventually, William broke the quietude.

"I think I've fallen in love with you," he timidly confessed, his voice almost trembling, and a smile formed on your lips at his heartfelt admission, sensing the sincerity in his words.

"I think I've fallen in love with you too," you responded, and no further words were necessary. Both of you closed the distance, leaning in for a tender, romantic kiss.

#my asks #18+ #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #wn88 imagine

[ms-writerandreader]

Stolen Wisdom Prologue

HARMLESS PRANK

Connor was always pulling pranks on Annabeth, though as of recently it had gotten harder to do anything when Percy was with her twenty-four seven. He needed some way to get under her skin without causing Percy to put Riptide to his throat, something discreet that wouldn’t matter to Percy but to Annabeth. “Connor? Connor, have you been listening to me at all?” Travis asked his younger brother who was obviously lost in thought. “Huh?” That was all Travis needed to lightly smack his brother on the shoulder, “Ow- Just repeat what you were saying!” Connor complained rubbing his shoulder with a pout even though he knew as well as Travis that the smack didn’t hurt. “I said, I’m going out with Katie and I need you to cover for me.” Travis explained and Connor raised a brow, silently asking his brother why he would need to cover for him. “We..might be going out of the campgrounds?” Connor sighed in annoyance but agreed to his brother's request. “Great. Now, what was in that brain of yours for you not to hear me when I’m talking to you?” Travis questioned and Connor groaned, but quickly explained his problem to his older brother. “So you’re upset because pranking Annabeth has gotten harder because little Sea Boy has been following her like a lost puppy? Why not just prank both Percy and Annabeth, makes it easier don’t you think?” Travis said and Connor pondered on the idea for a moment before shaking his head, “No, if I do that I’ll have toilet water shooting at me, at least with Annabeth I can out run her for a bit.” Travis was about to say something before someone yelled for them in Cabin 5, “What did you do?” The brothers asked simultaneously to each other as they saw Clarisse La Rue stomping over to them, she grabbed both boys roughly by the shirt and started to yell in their faces. Something about a bear trap being hidden as a welcome mat. “Clarisse! Clarisse slow down! What are you talking about!?” Travis yelled, as he pulled himself from Clarisse’s monster grip, quickly pulling his brother with him. Suddenly Chiron came from behind Clarisse, “That is enough dear girl, boys-” Chiron pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed tiredly. “Which one of you or was it both of you who disguised a bear trap as Cabin Five’s welcome mat?” Connor had to will himself not to laugh, whoever did such a prank was a genius and the fact that cabin five of all cabin’s has a welcome mat.

“Surprisingly not one of us Chiron.” Travis said, also trying to keep himself from laughing. “You know I have a hard time believing that it was either of you. That said, one of cabin five’s members said they saw someone do something in the front of their cabin yesterday evening, and with your giggles I am forced to believe it was one of you.” Now Clarisse was laughing while Travis and Connor protested before another voice entered the conversation, “Actually this one’s on me Chiron.” Turning to the voice, they saw the second in command of the Athena cabin, Malcolm Pace. “Malcolm? Dear boy, why?” “Clarisse and a few of her cabin mates decided to put a spider in the Athena cabin yesterday and the whole cabin freaked out, we had to get Percy, he killed it, but then Annie- Annabeth was still upset, so I disguised a bear trap as their welcome mat.” The gray-eyed boy explained and both Connor and Travis muttered a ‘That’s fair.’

After that Malcolm got a short lecture, and Clarisse was warned not to put a spider in the Athena cabin again. “Thanks Malcolm, but also what the hades!” Travis said and Malcolm looked at the Stolls, before humming. “I was gonna let the blame fall on you guys like how I usually do but, Katie said she was going out with you tonight so I felt bad that I almost ruined your date.” The blond explained nonchalantly, and the Stolls gaped at him, there were so many times they were blamed for pranks they never did and here they are finding out it was Malcolm the whole time. They weren’t mad, they felt more ashamed that a child of Athena, was better at getting away with things than them, children of Hermes. Suddenly however something clicked for Connor as he grinned, “Hey I actually need to ask you something, follow me.” Though hesitant, Malcolm followed leaving Travis who looked at his brother with questioning eyes as he walked away.

Connor and Malcolm made it to the strawberry fields and the son of Hermes turned to Malcolm quickly. “I need a..favor from you.” Connor said simply. “Depends on what the favor is.” The son of Athena answered, and Connor grinned maliciously. “I need to pull a prank on Annabeth, and as of late that’s gotten harder due to lover boy Percy.” Connor paused, waiting for Malcolm to interject however Malcolm waited with a calm and steady face. “I want you to fake being my boyfriend to get under Annabeth’s skin.” That’s when Malcolm’s steady expression faltered for a moment, “And you expected me to help you because?” The blond asked and Connor came up with something quickly. “Well, it would be a good way to get out of her shadow.” Malcolm’s eyes widened as he opened his mouth to protest but once again he faltered and sighed. “How long will we have to fake?” Connor smiled victoriously, “As long as it’s needed.”

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #greek mythology #prophecy #heroes of olympus #camp half blood #annabeth chase #percy pjo #percabeth #malconnor #malcolm pace #connor stoll #travis stoll #katie gardner

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

Bitch, you just tried to strangle your daughter. What maternal instinct?

And the only reason you took your son when you abandoned her was because you thought you could get more money for him.

***

OH MY GOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDD 🤬🤬

THIS REPULSIVE PETTY PIECE OF SHIT WASTE OF AIR!!

Seriously, I despise him more than Manniang!

My guy, quit while you're ahead! You lost the girl because you were spineless. Get over it and stop embarrassing yourself! 🤬🤬

***

LMAO, what else is he supposed to do?

Let's say it's been four or five years since Manniang ran off. This child was two at most at the time. He would be six or seven now. What are you talking about? That is still a whole baby!

I love (and by love, I mean hate) how disposable children are in this society unless they are sons anchoring their mother's position in their respective households.

***

Oh, shut the fuck up, you bitter, pathetic loser.

***

Drag him, Tingye!

I am so sick and tired of his bullshit.

***

NOOOO, BUT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND, HE IS THE MAIN CHARACTER OF THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!

OF COURSE, MINGLAN WAS SUPPOSED TO WAIT UNTIL RETIREMENT FOR HIM TO GET HIS SHIT TOGETHER AND SUFFER ALL KINDS OF INDIGNITIES IN THE MEANTIME!

HOW DARE SHE NOT BUILD A SHRINE TO HIS ESTEEMED PERSON AND PUT HER ENTIRE LIFE ON HOLD SO THAT HE CAN FEEL IMPORTANT?

With all that said, this actor is beyond fantastic, I can see why people are obsessed with him. I hope to watch him in a more sympathetic role next time.

***

LMAO, look at the pot calling the kettle black 🤣🤣

I cannot with this loser of a man.

***

If he had not been born rich, he would have been the founding father of the incel movement, blaming every man with even a semblance of a spine on his inability to fuck.

***

Oh, sure, it was for the government 🙄🙄

Your jealousy is palpable. You can't even convince yourself.

***

LMAO, what the fuck.

This is a dead child you're talking about! Your child! And you are mad you cannot get money and status because of him?

***

She's right, though, she did make the biggest fool out of him.

***

Good for you for slapping her, Minglan!

I've been waiting for someone to do it for ages now.

In fact, so many people in this drama deserve slapping. It's about time you got started on that.

***

Aww, he found his dead baby 😢

***

Wait, that's all?

THAT'S ALL??

WE DO NOT EVEN GET A BEHEADING 😭😭

Not only does her sorry ass not get punished in any way, he will continue to provide for her for the rest of her life. Sure, she will not be living in a manor in luxury as his wife, but she will have a roof over he head and food to eat, plus he will have to employ people in the middle of nowhere to make sure she doesn't go causing trouble again.

She should be in prison instead. Or in some hard labour colony, which I'm sure there are plenty of in Song Dynasty China. OR BEHEADED!!

And what about his maternal Bai relatives? Do they at least get arrested/exiled/beheaded? They have been REPEATEDLY trying to kill him for YEARS!

I am very disappointed with this resolution.

***

Well, I am glad this is over.

Honestly, as far as I am concerned, this whole Manniang subplot has been a huge blight on this otherwise excellent show and a black stain on Gu Tingye as a character. Big thanks to @ruizhi for filling me in on the details from the novel so that I can understand the writing decisions here better. Obviously, I realise that I am in the minority for disliking these decisions (and Gu Tingye as a character) because from what I have seen, he is a firm favourite among the people who watched this drama and everyone is on board with this sanitised version of his character arc.

I have to be honest, if they had kept his harem from the novel, I probably would not have touched this with a ten-foot pole, because I freely admit that I watch c-dramas for the pretty people and idealised romance. I also know that this would have made Gu Tingye more realistic and thus harder to project on, which is ironic because my complaints here are the lack of realism and easy ways out since they decided to include his other women in the drama too. Harem stories depress and infuriate me and I do not watch them unless there are very compelling reasons for me to pick them up, so out of a couple of hundred dramas on my to-watch list, this one would probably not have made it to the top if it had been closer to the source material.

Even as it is, all this is precisely why I put off watching Minglan for the longest time. I knew it had polygamy at its core and this made me disinclined to start it, even though it was warmly recommended by many people in whose good taste I trust. I eventually only started watching because a c-drama friend of mine told me that there is no harem here and that Minglan and Tingye were monogamous and ride-or-die for each other, so Manniang showing up early on was an extremely nasty surprise.

With that said, now that I am here already and very invested in this story, I've long since come to terms with the fact that romance is not the main focus of this show and adjusted my expectations. I am really enjoying it for what it is, which is a family drama focused on women's struggle and suffering in this hell system that they must learn to navigate or die destitute, which is why I am especially irked by this cheap trickery they are employing to make Gu Tingye's and Minglan's relationship more "clean" than it actually is. You cannot have it both ways. Either these characters are realistic people of their time or they are not. Either you are sticking to the book version of them in the adaptation or you are not. But these cake-eating writers (as in wanting their cake and eating it too) definitely tried to get away with both and ended up with huge inconsistencies in their story that irritated me enough to sit down and write this entire screed.

Like I said in my comments on my previous Minglan post, this is the exact thing that made TTEOTM unwatchable for me and landed it on the list of the worst dramas I ever subjected myself to, despite my unceasing obsession with Luo Yunxi. Obviously, I am feeling this on a lesser level with Gu Tingye, because overall, the writing of Minglan committed fewer crimes than TTEOM and remains solid on all other fronts, so I am still invested in the story overall, him as a character and him and Minglan as a couple, but the writers here are just as much cake eaters as the writers on TTEOTM. They looked at this bad boy who worked for a story in another medium precisely because he was morally compromised in some way, wanted that for themselves, but then could not or would not follow through, either because they feared they would alienate a big portion of their audience, or because the Chinese censorship board wouldn't let them get away with it. Then they did this ridiculous thing where they tried going, "Yeah, he's bad, but he's not really! He was set up! It was a misunderstanding!" And ended up blowing a giant hole in their whole story.

If they didn't want to explore Gu Tingye as a man of his time making the same selfish decisions as other men of that time, then they should not have had him acting like one. They should have had a logical and consistent reason why he didn't keep mistresses and concubines (such as, idk, seeing his mother suffer or something) and not introduce Manniang in the first place. What was the point of her in the plotline if we were not going to see him and Minglan make the hard decisions, either to treat his illegitimate offspring as lower-class citizens so that her biological kids could be afforded all the privileges of their rank (which would obviously not sit right with the modern audience), or go with the modern moral code that the show wants them to have and deny Minglan's bio kids by treating all the children equally (which could have been done legally if Minglan was to adopt them, but of course, she was never going to do that)? If you never intended to go there, then why bring in Manniang and her kids in the first place?

In my opinion, if they wanted Gu Tingye untarnished in this way and his love with Minglan unburdened with the baggage of other women and stepkids, they should never have kept Manniang in the adaptation. Once they brought her in, there was no stuffing that genie back into the bottle. The shadow of book!Tingye has been around since the adult actors took over and it is not even the non-monogamy that is an issue for me now, but the character inconsistency and the extremely cheap sleight of hand that they pulled in an attempt to smooth it over.

Here is the thing. Every time I start on a story, be it a book, movie, drama, or whatever, there is a certain premise that it promises to fulfil, which comes with the expectations and limitations of the genre. I adjust my standards accordingly, so if I sit down to watch a fluffy romcom with a young, naive intern falling in love with the son of CEO, then I will judge it on how funny it is and whether the main couple is hot enough and has enough chemistry to keep me invested till the end. I am not going to be particularly worried about the power imbalance and the IRL implications of such a setup, my main concern will be if the main couple look like they are having good enough sex and if I can shoehorn my own escapist fantasy into that dynamic. However, if I start a show that deals with misogyny, patriarchy and sexual harassment of women in the workplace, then you cannot dump the privileged son of the CEO into a relationship with the main heroine and expect me to root for it, unless he is right there beside her, taking his father to court for abuse of power and dismantling the system from within. This is, IMO, what this drama failed to do with Gu Tingye. You cannot promise me a Xiao Qi and deliver a Sheng Hong with the serial numbers filed off.

Based on what I've heard and read about the original novel, book!Tingye is not that much better than Sheng Hong. He had multiple women and illegitimate children that he was playing favourites with based on their birth and rank. He sabotaged his older son and indirectly caused his death so that Minglan's children would not have competition. His daughter by Manniang was just as traumatised as Minglan. He had concubines, who were also technically wives with no way out of a hell marriage, whom he then discarded when it was convenient for him. The only reason this marriage was a victory for Minglan is that she was now the favoured wife with the highest rank, thus her circumstances in life dramatically improved. I understand why they didn't want to portray this to a wider audience, and that doing so would have seriously dented Feng Shaofeng's reputation as a heartthrob in the c-ent industry, but then they shouldn't have opened that can of worms to begin with.

I feel like they should have cut the Manniang storyline completely if they weren't going to do it properly, or, idk, had her go off the deep end much earlier and kill her kids off before he got with Minglan. That could have been used as a catalyst for his change, having him go, "That's it! No more mistresses and concubines for me!" Then we could have seen the rest of it play out as it did (minus Manniang) with a REASON, with his family pressuring him to take in a wife and concubines, him saying no, then falling in love with Minglan and moving on from there naturally and giving us a clean, idealised romance that is not typical for their time.

However, once they brought in Manniang but did not bring in all the nasty stuff implied with him having a kept woman and illegitimate children, they shot themselves in the foot because now Gu Tingye's character was in conflict with the story's internal logic. We have seen how this world functions, we have seen how concubines and the children of concubines are treated. Naturally, once they introduced Manniang and her kids (but especially her son), we were expecting to see exactly what happened in the novel, because this is the premise of the story and the laws by which the world it is set in is governed. The fact that this didn't happen did not make me sigh in relief and think of Gu Tingye as a good guy, it made me question why the story never went there. The cowardly shortcuts out of this predicament and the cheap trickery the writers used to avoid it made me feel like the story was "lying" to me, which is maybe a ridiculous word to use because this whole thing is fiction and therefore a lie. But I could no longer suspend my disbelief, immerse myself in the narrative and root for these characters. Suddenly, they felt fake.

Also, I feel downright insulted by these writing choices.

"Yeah, Gu Tingye had another woman but that's OK because she was actually evil so she doesn't count and he was right to abandon her and have his true romance with Minglan! 😀"

"Yeah, he had a son that he would have had to have been grossly unfair to or not have Minglan's kids get the full extent of their privilege of rank, but that's OK, because the kid just conveniently died! 😀"

"Yeah, his daughter should be traumatised in a hundred different ways from having such a biological mother and dealing with the inferiority complex from growing up right next to Minglan's legitimate children and knowing that in the eyes of society and her own father, she is lesser than them, but don't worry, that's OK, because we are making her suuuuuuuper well adjusted! 😀"

"Yeah, if Chang'er had lived, the audience would have been forced to confront the fact that Gu Tingye was very much a man of his time and that Minglan was also no benevolent saint and that they would have treated children that are not biologically hers as second-class citizens, just like Sheng Hong and Wang Ruofu did in the Sheng household! But that's OK, we'll just kill his illegitimate firstborn son so that you don't have to think about that! 😀"

As a character, Gu Tingye feels so disingenuous because of these shortcuts the writers took to scapegoat Manniang and absolve him of the consequences of being just like the other men in this drama. Would he have been an idealised c-drama hero that girls could pin their fantasies on if they had kept his novel characterisation? Absolutely not. They made him more attractive and palatable to a wider, modern, likely younger-leaning audience at the cost of the story's internal logic, plot coherency and character consistency, and that, for me, is a much bigger writing crime than him having a harem and treating his illegitimate children as lesser-than.

Again, this is an adaptation and nobody put a gun to their heads and forced them to include Manniang. If they had wanted Gu Tingye untarnished and idealised, they should have handled her differently. They cannot have it both ways.

With that said, I realise that I am in the minority here because most viewers were obviously very happy to let this slide (just like they were with TTEOTM). Again, most viewers will not agree with me on Gu Tingye because he is obviously a favourite ML for many, but for me personally, the overall drama loses lots of points on him, especially because of Manniang.

In any case, there are still more than twenty episodes left here for me, so onwards and forward to better plot points and character arcs! 😅

#the story of minglan #tsoml spoilers #tsoml ep51

[rooolt]

In-Depth Rant About Possible Scamster Relationship Timelines Because They Plague Me

okay so! Scamster relationship timeline has been something I’ve tried to puzzle out since episode 23 dropped because the everything about it was so absurdly captivating and Anthony just dropped it and gave us nothing. So originally (and I think I’ve talked abt this before) I had perceived the timeline thusly:

we know for a fact they are together in the flashback in Alright which based on Anthony’s description of the teens most likely takes place a couple of years after s1 bc the kiddads are all still teens. I think 3 years is a reasonable estimate bc if you see the oldest kiddad in s1 as being max 14, that would leave them at 17. I’d say minimum two years and maximum five. Now, there is no way of knowing how long the two of them have been together by the time this flashback is occurring. I think it may be reasonable to assume that it’s relatively new as we know Morgan was still with Jodie in the finale and presumably had to experience some amount of time being together with him to want to leave him. Additionally, the way they talk to each other gives very much “honeymoon phase” energy, not that that’s concrete evidence, but still. Now with the information we were operating under for a large portion of s2, (probably up until episode 45ish if I remember correctly) scam and Jodie were Hermie’s parents, and scam left Jodie pretty immediately after Hermie was born. Working under that assumption, and the long held assumption that Hermie was 15, this would place them as having been in a relationship for about five to seven years (s2 takes place 25 years after season one, meaning Hermie (if he was actually 15) would’ve been born 10 years after season one and if they had been dating starting anywhere from three to five years after season one, there’s the math) WHICH IS A BIG NUMBER. And for a while that was crazy to me, that plagued me right I thought about that all the time.

AND THEN

AND THEN Anthony Burch dropped a piece of information that SHATTERED MY WORLDVIEW. Hermie the unworthy is not a person (or demon scam creature) he’s just a scam and he’s AT MOST like three years old. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR THE SCAMSTER TIMELINE!!! Here’s the thing. There is nothing Anthony Burch can say that will fully retcon Hermie in my mind as not Jodie’s son. It comes up so much, Jodie sees him that way, literally claims he was “scammed out of a son”, Hermie and Taylor are referred to as related multiple times, there’s nothing you can do to retcon that. Therefore, despite being a creation of scam, Hermie is still technically Jodie’s son. What do I mean by that? Personally, I like to think that whilst creating Hermie, scam knew that it takes two parents to make a child and thus pulled “dna” (I assume it’s like magic bc neither of them are human) from both himself and Jodie, either because that was the last long running relationship he was in, or because it was the funniest option. This, I think, leaves us with two possible options for the scamster timeline.

Original scamster timeline is correct/they broke up sometime earlier, but then three years pre-canon scam likely decided it would be fun to make a kid but didn’t want to deal with baby stuff so he pulled stuff from himself and Jodie to make like a 12 year old and then when he got bored of it not only did he implant fake memories into both hermie and his adoptive parents, but also within Jodie, making him believe that they had a son together 12 years ago but scam ran away with him, breaking up with Jodie in the process

scam and Jodie had actually been together for almost 20 years straight and Jodie was aware of, and maybe even excited about, the kid scam was making, but then scam just immediately whisked him away, implanting him within a mortal family. The reason I say they stayed together instead of breaking up and getting back together is the way jodie talks abt it, it seems as though he was blindsided by scam leaving him. This is obviously the less likely (ha!) option, but I think definitely still a possibility

n e ways, I’ve most definitely considered this in far more depth than either Anthony Burch or Jimmy Wong have, but there is something deeply wrong with me and they plague me.et me know if you have further thoughts or evidence suggesting a more canonical scamster timeline.

#Yes this entire post was made with no reference to transcripts or episodes this is just all off the dome #I’m so obsessed with them and the timeline I can’t explain it #Why was their relationship so long running seemingly #What was it like #I have so many questions #dndads #dungeons and daddies #scamster #scam likely #jodie foster dndads

[imzsuzsis-blog]

I saw a blurry picture on the net of Lando and a strange man in his forties talking in front of the hotel, then kissing. It blew my fuse quite a bit. "If I meet him, I'll be sure to follow Lando Norris" I got out of the taxi in a rage. I almost didn't pay the groundhog, my mind was so different that I shouldn't miss the fucking train, I managed again last year, I hope I won't make it this year... "Ohhh fuck it, I'll kill you!!!!" He takes a picture in front of my eyes and lets the guy hug him from behind. "Fuck this is disgusting." I even covered my eyes so that I wouldn't even see this shit... "Baby, how are the Twins?" I was so shocked by the news that I accidentally pressed Siri on my phone and instead of Zac, I called Pato'o, who was shocked by the news because his ex Lando had been together for a good two years.

"Oh, Osc, come on, take it easy, he's here, my friend Loki, we've just met." I gave Osc a friendly handshake but he pulled away terrified, as if I was terrorizing him. Hello, I'm Oscar, Lando's teammate since last year. He's a cute boy if you warm up like that." ,, Osc???? Did you take a homophobic pill again? we go together, he's my boyfriend." "Not only did you shock me again, you know, I called Pato' O instead of Zak, this is the news of the twins." "Did you hear the bass? I'm sorry, it wasn't intentional, I've only known since yesterday, believe me. I that I was shocked at first by the fact that I am not five weeks old, but seven, then that I have twins, double the joy, but double everything and fucking chaos." "When will you tell me at home?" I shook my head, I didn't realize this either, maybe there are Carlos, Daniel and Max among the four godfather signs, my rivals are all bigger names with one exception, Max Fewtrell is no longer a bigger name than me, but he can easily beat me in this.

"Oh calm down Oscar, yes I am Loki and yes Lando also took his name, that's my name, I have nothing to do with the god of mythology, I'm Loki Jonosoh." "How old are you, because in the picture you looked rather young, even though you were washed." "One week ago, I was forty-one, we just celebrated that on the date and it was said that he wanted to build this piece by piece after the previous one." I started stroking Lando's back with my beautiful but already worn black nails, who vomited again, this usual breakfast was bad for him. He can't stand it, he said yesterday when he was about to leave crying, he's out of it, it's like he's settled in well, and then everything would come out, he hates it all in the morning, I comforted him. In the brain, he was lying there crouched down and crying constantly, I am worried about him, in fact, he doesn't eat anything, he is just nauseous or dizzy, even now when we get there, this is not a condition for him. ,,Do you know of another hospital in Suzuka besides the emergency hospital? Oscar is urgent please!!!!” "I'm here Loki, I'm looking at the map, I've already found one, I hope it won't end badly. Come on Lando you need to eat for a little bit.” "No, I can't even look at the food, I feel nauseous and have to throw up again." "We really need a hospital where we can be told what to do, it's not fun to watch." ,,Jesus!!!" "We don't know what's wrong with me either, Charles. We know he can't eat, if he eats everything right away, then his appetite is completely gone, we are worried and he can't handle vomiting in the morning. Loki said that he was curled up crying on the bed and didn't want to leave until he couldn't stop crying." "We are hoping that he will sleep a little on the train."

The thought came to my mind, I'm going to die right here and get the fuck out, "Water, Loki, thanks, I'm not hungry, I'm just fucking thirsty and I'm parched." "Well, at least you're taking your vitamins, aren't you?" ,,Of course, are you fooling around with chocolate milk Charles? For what?” "This or the B12, you decide, Lando." Give me the chocolate milk, is it a joke, is it also B12? Get it!!!! I don't." I watched him while he was throwing a tantrum, it's only natural that he has no appetite and that he's constantly vomiting and gnawing on certain foods like that, what's wrong with him now?" "Paprika, but I could also say radishes and vegetables like this, he can smell it and is starting to feel nauseous, but he is constantly vomiting or has nausea, I can't do anything about him, even now he is sensitive, he saw a dead cat on the street and started to cry and he would have loved it At the cemetery, when I and a couple of passers-by prevented this, he started to get hysterical and threw his shoes, because I wanted to calm him down, he started to cry again because he doesn't understand what he's doing and he's had enough of it, he wanted to fool around with me, and finally he fell down. " "This vitamin shit and this chocolate milk look like they're being drunk by school kids." I went to Loki, who kissed me and ruffled my hair, I leaned on his shoulder, tired as hell, I didn't sleep in the middle of the night, I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the new pussy to come out of my stomach, and I cried, then I vomited, I didn't sleep at all, when I slept, I tossed and turned, it was a nightmare.

#lando norris #fanfic #biseuxal #gayboy #f1 #osc #f1 fanfic #boy love #loki laufeyson #loki #lgbtq #intersex #charles leclerc #pregnant #pregnancy #gay #japan #japan travel #cute #landoscar #transgender

[seancekitsch]

Wow, I can get sexual too: An Adrian Chase x reader fic- Chapter 2

series masterlist here

warnings: eventual smut, masturbation, twitter nude culture, the very slightest dub con but not really just saying this to be safe, mutual pining, idiots in love, perv!reader but also perv!adrian

Holy shit, what have I gotten myself into? 

You pick at your nails, looking at the chips in the clear coat as they shine under the street lamps you pass. Adrian chats excitedly, which you should have expected. 

“I mean, did you expect them to go that way?” he exclaims, taking his eyes off the road to eagerly await your answer. 

“I’m sorry, I spaced out,” you excuse yourself, “What didn't you expect?”

“The gang war angle for season four, duh! And the fact that we see a few generations of it. What do you think?” 

He pauses and you open your mouth to answer, only to have him interrupt your thoughts and keep talking. 

“Are you okay? You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Look, if you’re going to be distracted like this in the field I think maybe my favorite coworker should take a break. I mean, I could end up having to save your ass like a damsel in distress and then you might develop a silly crush on me or something. How crazy would that be? Think about that!” 

Yeah, crazy, you think, like I don't already think about that.

“I’m fine… just haven't been sleeping well lately,” you offer weakly, “I like that this is set in the fifties, it gives us another slice of history to dissect.”

“History?” he laughs heartily, “You nerd.”

But under the lamp lights you see him smile with nothing but genuine mirth as he turns into the parking lot of his apartment complex.

You let yourself laugh with him and you relax as much as you can until he pulls the car in park, his parkjob extremely hasty and sloppy but still within the lines. 

“How long do we have until the episode starts?” you ask.

“About seven minutes and forty five seconds, but I’m not actively counting.”

Sure, you think, clicking the seatbelt and pulling yourself upwards.

Its exactly now that you realize you should have changed into sweatpants instead of the shorts you were planning on wearing to bed. 

The second you try to stand and exit the Sebring you feel the shorts ride up, giving Adrian a full view of the backs of your thighs and maybe even a little bit of your ass. At least, maybe you should have put on some underwear.. Well shit, this really isn’t how you expected tonight to go. Well shit, this really isn’t how you expected tonight to go. The much too cool wind hits your bare legs when you fully get out onto the sidewalk in front of his building.

“After you,” he gestures to the staircase up to his door as you watch him cram his mask into his backpack. God, it’s really a wonder he hasn’t been caught. It didn’t take him long to crack and tell you his identity and you can’t imagine what his neighbors see.   Hell, he’s barely hiding it now and it's not even late at night.

You begin to ascend the stairs, knowing exactly the vantage point Adrian is getting as he starts up the steps behind you. You know exactly the up shorts image he's getting, exactly how much of an eyeful he can see of your thighs and ass, honestly maybe even more because your shorts are an extra comfy size bigger than your usual. Fuck, you could let the nerves take over. Or…. or you could make the most of this.

You slow down, not in any crazy noticeable way, just enough to give your hips a little extra sway and to keep Adrian there for a little longer. Perhaps this can be a little payback for how wound-up Adrian had you before this, how you were practically desperate over his tweet of thinking about a certain coworker. If it was truly about you and not that new hostess at Fennel Fields, you could tease him a little. You take your time up the stairs, flimsy and wooden to the third and top floor of the building, really focusing and feeling each step with your legs and making a point. If Adrian is getting impatient with your pace, he doesn't make any motion to correct it. He stays at his same pace behind you, a few steps behind patiently walking up behind you.

You deflate, almost, as the top of the stairs finally comes into view and your gait levels out with his. 

“Showtime?” you ask, a coy smile on your lips. The look on his face is… hard to read. He looks a little flustered, but at the same time excited; a light blush on his cheeks as his chest heaves. It's probably just the new episode of Fargo. Adrian lives and dies for this shit. Fargo is your favorite show too, but not in the way Adrian loves it. 

“No, its on FX,” he deadpans, but the smile lets you know he's in on the joke. Adrian fumbles with the keys for a moment before finally getting the right key in the lock and turning. He opens the door for you, gesturing for you to step over the threshold of his one-bedroom before him.

Holy shit, you've died and gone to horny heaven. Or horny hell. You can't decide.

You know that you knew the layout of Adrian’s apartment, but you find yourself completely blindsided when you catch your own reflection next to Adrian’s in the floor length mirror as soon as he holds open the door. You didnt expect that fucking mirror to be staring you in the face. 

You catch Adrian’s eyes in the mirror a few seconds after you step further into the room, his wide smile faltering at your expression. For someone who says he doesn't understand others emotions, hes a perceptive motherfucker. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Adrian asks again.

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

“I mean, you're really pretty when you're zoned out like that but you look like you've seen a ghost, and not in a good way.”

You feel your face heat up at that comment and you're sure you look like a deer caught in the headlights. You shake off whatever that could possibly mean and move to the couch, grabbing a navy blue throw blanket from the arm rest and pulling it over yourself as you sit and wiggle out of your shoes before situating yourself on the cushion.. 

“I’m fine. Get over here and turn on the tv, I think we're running out of time.”

You reassure him for what you can only assume won't be your last time tonight, still feeling a bit too on edge and warm in his presence to be comfortable.

Adrian kicks his shoes off, boots barely unlaced as he lets them bounce against the wall next to the front door. His eyes trail from the floor where your foot peeks out from under 

“We have two minutes!” Adrian exclaims, plopping himself down on the cushion next to yours and clicking on the flatscreen. Sure enough, his television is already turned to the right channel, and you have to assume this is a routine for him. You can picture him coming home from patrols, watching Fargo, and then standing in front of that mirror and… shit. Tonight is going to be harder than you thought. 

Adrian shudders next to you as he settles in.

“You cold?” you ask, barely tearing your eyes away from the screen, afraid to lose your cool now that your mind if fully back to being fixated on the most recent video he posted. Hell, the ottoman right next to your foot is the one his leg was propped up on while he touched himself and you touched yourself in tandem to. Its even in the same spot it had to have been in that video, judging on the angle…

“My nipples are hard,” he admits, “Can I get some blanket? I can get my own from my room if thats not okay. Chris said I make women uncomfortable, but you’re my favorite teammate so I feel like-”

You interrupt him by throwing the extra length of the blanket over him and shifting over slightly so you can get equal shares of the fabric. 

“You don't make me uncomfortable, Adrian.”

At least, not more uncomfortable than you are right now, your shorts feeling dangerously short and your body feeling a little too hot despite wanting to hide under the blanket. He accepts your answer and settles in, hand accidentally brushing your bare thigh.

Fuck. 

You hope he doesn't pick up on the little gasp that escapes your lips, distracted by the episode finally starting. You settle into the noise, the Italian mob discussing the turf war as the nurse tries to hide her indiscretions.

“Are you looking for a vantage point? Is that why you keep looking at that mirror?” he asks during the first commercial break. You nod, making eye contact with him again through the mirror. You hadn't even realized your eyes had drifted over that way again.

“Yeah, been doing that a lot lately. I didn't bring anything,” you don't need to finish the sentence for Adrian to know you're not armed. 

Adrian just laughs.

“Don’t worry about it, Cowgirl,” he reassures you, “I’ve got you protected.”

You narrow your eyes at him in the light from the screen. 

“Cowgirl?” you echo. 

“Yeah, I figure that's the opposite of the mermaid emoji, and you and I are kind of opposites. Not that I am the mermaid, but it is my Emoji. But like, it totally works for us! That's my Emoji for you in my phone.”

That's a lot of information to take in. 

“So I’m the cowgirl?” You repeat again, for confirmation. 

“Well, maybe not the cowgirl, but definitely mine.”

Well shit, if you didn't already have a crush on him, that corny crap would have definitely sealed the deal for you. You settle back in, tearing your eyes away from him and forcing them away from the mirror to focus on the episode. With only two left in the season, things are getting really fucking good.

The rest of the episode goes by relatively easily, and you can settle in and focus, even leaning slightly against Adrian’s shoulder as you get tired by the end of it. It had been a long day, with your own patrols on Emilia’s orders having started at five in the morning. 

He offers to drive you home after your third yawn, which prompted his first one. You gladly accept, because honestly, you don't think you could handle crashing here on the couch. 

On the drive home, you recap the episode, talking about where you think the end of the season will go and your favorite parts.

“I don't know, I almost want the nurse to get away with it and run away with the Don,” you say wistfully, leaning on the center console towards him. Normally, you wouldn't be this bold, but you feel comfortable and too sleepy in this moment to care about how he might interpret these actions, now having been up for almost twenty hours straight. 

“But they're criminals!” Adrian argues, taking his eyes off the road to look at you incredulously. 

“Adrian, the show is about crime. Your favorite show is about crime.”

You roll your eyes at his outburst, so endeared to his strict code that most of the team found mental. Sure, maybe some of his methods were a bit extreme, but you get it to some degree. The laws that made sense had to be upheld, but the ones that were immoral could and should be broken. 

“Yeah, you're right,” he says, rolling his eyes. 

The rest of the ride goes all too quickly, and you feel cold as the car comes to a stop. 

“Text me when you're in your bed all safe okay?”

Goddammnit why did he have to phrase it like that?

“Yeah,” you nod, grabbing the door handle, “yeah, will do”

You wish him goodbye one more time, shooting a smile his way and then waving again when you've finally closed the car door, and make the walk up your sidewalk to the door of your condo. 

It takes you no time at all to get back inside and practically race up the stairs to collapse into your duvet. 

My Number: Doors locked. Thanks for tonight, episode was great. 

Adrian: Of course my little 🤠

My Number: Lol, Text when you’re home safe. Night 🧜‍♂️

If the little cowboy hat emoji was going to be yours, then you could assign the merman to him officially. Without thinking, you throw your phone on the pillow next to yours and drift off to sleep. 

You wake up to a text from Adrian around the time he got home,

Adrian: Home safe 🤠! Same time next week?

You feel slightly bad about falling asleep before you could get this text, but you shoot him a response that yes, definitely next week after his patrols would work. You see another notification after that, this one a twitter notification. Oh, holy shit.

@mattvtweets: Wanna be my little cowgirl? Ride me. 

You don't even bother looking at the close to fifteen replies, instead focusing on Adrian in the video.

From the vantage point of the camera, you can tell he’s sprawled out on the couch, one leg bent at the knee and propped up on the cushion, and the other hanging off the edge and on the ground. On closer look, his foot is actually dug into the blanket you were previously wrapped up in with him. 

Holy fuck, you think.

He’s furiously stroking his shaft, fist wrapped tightly around it as he works himself over. This video is so much different than the others, so much more desperate and hasty. Adrian doesn't care about framing or angles in this video. It looks so rushed. 

Even the very slight voice modulator Adrian uses feels sloppy in this video. You can hear his actual voice pushing through, hear his moans the way they were meant to be heard. God, it feels like this video is just for you. 

But how could it not be? Cowgirl? Did he not just call you his little cowgirl when you got in bed safe?

Fuck, maybe his other tweet was about you too. It had to be, no? Certain coworker, and now little cowgirl? Take that, new hostess at Fennel Fields, you bitch!

Okay, immediately you feel guilty for that thought, you're sure she's a nice girl, but it's not her that has his attention. 

You watch the video twice before even thinking about pulling down your shorts, wanting to be absolutely sure of what you were seeing and hearing. It's you he wants, it's you he's making this video about.

Working yourself up is easy, listening to him moan and groan as he fucks his fist in the same spot you were practically cuddling with him last night. Your fingers slide into yourself with ease, already worked up with all of the Adrian in your past 24 hours. He really doesn't understand how sexy he is, anonymous or not. Even without the twitter he has you worked up with his proximity and quirkiness. He knew exactly how to get you going, clothed or not. 

It's only moments of timing your fingers with his motions that you're on the edge, not quite finishing but not quite hanging on either. 

He swipes his thumb across the head of his cock in the video, and lets out a loud groan. Fuck, how is he so hot? You grind the heel of your palm into your clit and a shudder shoots up your spine, your back arching off of the bed.

Fuck this.

You close out the video, nevermind how hot it is, and start to compose a text one handed, your other hand drifting upwards until your wet fingers reach your clit and start moving.

Your number: Sounds good, mind if I pack an overnight bag so you don't have to drive late?

Risky, but a risk you're wiling to take. 

He texts back before you can even think about thrusting your fingers back into yourself. 

Adrian: Please do! Late driving could lead to a number of motor vehicle violations. Looking forward to our Fargo sleepover,  my little 🤠

You come almost instantly. Body tensing up as you ride your high and rumple your duvet even further than it already was.

And then the realization sets in that you have to see him in less than three hours.

Fuck.

#adrian chase x reader